Ouran Infiltrated
by Pearl-Posts
Summary: What would it take to conquer a lifelong fear? Akira Helleusa has had social anxiety since grade school. Her crippling and almost constant panic attacks make it next to impossible for her to talk to people. Sadly, with every advantage being a Host has, there are a million disadvantages.
1. Ouran's Clueless New Girl

Ouran High School, the elegant playground for the rich and beautiful. What a shame to see such a magnificent building practically go to waste. No one can look me in the eye and call this place and honest to God high school. Fortunately, I have my private studies at home. High school education isn't my priority. No, my main focus here is increasing my social skills.

Yeah, it's kind of embarassing, but I've never really been all that good with people. My mother thinks what I need is friends. If I don't get some of those, my family's publishing company goes to my younger sister, and I'll end up working for her one day. That is, in no world, going to happen.

I take a deep breath and look up at the sparkling building. It glows with radiance in the morning sun. Such a beautiful place. I tighten my grip on my bag and begin the excruciatingly long journey to my last class of the day. Where was it? Oh, yes, north building.

Thankfully, I manage to make it through the class with no incident. The bell rings and I stuff my papers into my bag, stumbling over the overly large skirt of the Ouran girls' uniform. It's just so... impractical. I dearly wish I could wear pants.

I step out into a seething mass of people. They push me along the hallways, ignoring my attempts to leave. I quickly get very, very frusterated. I take a deep breath and try to remember that I just need to keep my wits about me and try to stay calm. This has always been my trouble with people. They ignore me, push me to the side, make me want to scream and let them know I'm still here, still human. Perhaps I'm overreacting. If I am or not, it doesn't matter now. Because I'm officially lost.

The crowd has thinned out enough that I can at least walk normally. All the walls look the same. I consider asking someone for directions, but I don't even know where I should be going. I stumble along the carpeted halls for what seems like hours but couldn't be more than several minutes. There are so many damned rooms, turns, stairways! This is enormously frustrating.

I notice two girls round a corner, giggling about something that's probably not funny. I sigh and give in to defeat. I should ask them for directions. I lock my elbow around my bag and run after them. Sadly, I forget that I'm wearing these incorrigible high heeled shoes. Just as I'm rounding the corner, my step fails and I fall, crashing through an ajar white door. I land in the wide doorway, yellow dress spread out around me. I managed to cover my head when I fell, so I take my arms off my face and lean my head back.

I know immediately that what I see is the ticket to my future.


	2. Something to Gain

They're all dressed like pirates. Each costume consists of bright colors accented with overly frilly white shirts and black pants. My eyes hurt from looking at it. No pirate talks, they all start at me for more than a few seconds. I haul myself on to my hands and knees, and look up.  
"A first time guest! We love first time guests. Please, come in, my beautiful flower," His voice is as smooth as honey, and contains a hint of song behind it. He's tall, with golden hair and strangely violet eyes. And he's extremely, heart-poundingly handsome. He holds out his hand to me, and I take it graciously.  
"What's your name, flower?" He asks me. Damn. This happens a lot. Someone starts talking to me and I just can't answer. I want to, but no words come out of my mouth. I look at him, open my mouth, close it, and drop my head.  
"It's okay, do come in," The tall boy says, spinning me into the room.  
"Tamaki, you'll scare her," A second voice says. I lift my chin and see it came from an auburn-haired first year. He and his brother are in my class. I think I can recall their names. Kaoru and Hikaru Hitachiin. That's it. I look at them, the only - even if slightly - familiar faces in this room.  
"Oh, hey, you're in our class. You're new. Akira, right?" The other twin says. I can't really tell which is which, but I do notice that their voices are different. I make a mental note of that.  
"Yeah," I say. It comes out weaker than I thought, more embarassed. Heat rises to my cheeks and I drop my gaze to the floor. I feel a hand lift my face up, and I find myself looking into the eyes of the tall blonde boy, Tamaki.  
"You don't need to be embarassed, not with the beauty you posess," I feel heat enveloping my face, and I know that I've gone beet red. Damn him.  
Suddenly, confidence fills me, and I push that boy firmly to a respectable distance away. "Yeah," I say, crossing my arms and drawing myself up to my full five-foot-nine height, "I just got lost. I'm not your guest, nor do I wish to participate in your..." I trail off, searching for the right word, "...ridiculous club". Tamaki visibly pales. Dammit, I've gone and done it again. My blush reappears and I drop my eyes again.  
"Sorry, but I-" I whisper. I bite my bottom lip and twirl a strand of my dark brown hair in between my fingers.  
"Hey," Yet another voice says. Great, more people. "I apologize for my senpais. They're a little bit too crazy for their own good," I look up again to see another younger boy, with longish brown hair and wide, deep eyes the color of honey. "I'm Haruhi," he says with a charming, deliciously adorable smile. I suddenly feel like he's the best host in this place.  
"Hi, I'm A-Akira," I manage to stammer.  
"Akira, would you like to stay for some tea?" Haruhi asks in her strangely high voice. Isn't Haruhi a girl's name? I find myself thinking. Poor guy, having to be stuck with a girl's name his whole life. I don't bother to bring it up because it might upset him, and I really don't want to do that. He's just so... nice. Not a sickly sweet nice like that Tamaki guy, or a friendly-without-being-interested nice like the twins. Haruhi is different. Haruhi seems like he genuinely wants to spend time with me.  
I nod in response to his question and follow his lead to an overstuffed, elegant couch. Haruhi prepares the tea and I graciously take my cup, trying to gather enough confidence to speak again.  
"You know, I'm pretty new around here, too," He says, obviously trying to relate to me and get me to feel more comfortable. I look around and notice the rest of this club trying to pretend they aren't watching our conversation. "It took me a while to get used to all this craziness".  
"Really?" I murmur. "You seem pretty settled in."  
"Yeah. I really love it around here. Tamaki and the others may seem pretty weird at first, but they're all really nice when you get to know them".  
"Hmm," I say, as a thought hits me. I wonder... they probably put on acts for their guests. They get to know the guests, but the guests don't get to know them for who they really are. It seems pretty unfair. Or maybe sad? Or maybe...  
"What's it like being a host, Haruhi?"  
"Oh, it's really fun! I get to meet new people every day and get to know the frequent customers more. Besides, I have great coworkers!" He's obviously trying to sell me on the thing as a whole, but I sold myself.  
See, this is something I could gain from. It seems like a good opportunity to try to fight my... social anxiety. But then a thought dawns on me. If I become a host like them, I'll be forced to interact with more people on a daily basis.


	3. Striking Intrest

I churn the thoughts around in my head, and it suddenly makes so much sense. If I become a host, I'll be able to learn how other people think. I'll be able to have friends, to be popular, just like Mother wants. Yes, this idea is perfect. You know, if I can find a way that they'll actually let me.  
"Haruhi, you only service girls here, am I correct?" I ask, shooting ahead on my train of thought.  
"Yes, we do," he says. I can see confusion registering on his face.  
"Hm... What's the ratio of girls to boys in Ouran?" I wonder out loud. There's a pause, and I'm startled when I hear an answer.  
"Well, I can never be exact, but there are roughly the same amount of boys as there are girls," A voice in the corner says. I flip my head around a notice a young man in glasses typing away at his computer.  
"That means you're ony servicing roughly half the school," I say, turning to him. He's exchanging a meaningful look with the blonde kid, Tamaki.  
"That would be correct," He says. I have a feeling he's latched on to my train of thought, but is making me spell it out. I put down my tea cup and realize everyone - with the exclusion of Tamaki - is staring at me like I'm a zoo animal. I may as well get used to it, if my plan works out. I groan inwardly. Maybe this isn't such a good idea...  
"Are you the, uh, leader of this club?" I ask him pointedly.  
"No, that would be Tamaki," he says, pushing his glasses up on his nose. Really, It's that imbecile? Interesting.  
"And you would be...?"  
"My name's Kyoya. I'm the vice president, as everyone puts it." I nod, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't see.  
"Well, Mr. Vice President Kyoya," I say with a smirk, "I realize this may be a rude question, but I have to know. How much do you make in a month?"  
He types a couple characters on his computer and twists around to face me in his chair. "We make half as much as we could. I see where you are going with this conversation," Kyoya closes the laptop, pushes himself off the chair, and makes a gesture that encompasses the whole room. "I suggest we all sit down. We have things to discuss."


	4. The Results Are In

It is now I notice how large this host club is. I go over their names in my head - Haruhi, the strangely feminine kiss-up, the twins, who probably have some interesting secret to make their place at this club more secure, Kyoya, the vice-president and money manager, and Tamaki, obviously the best host and the most confident. There's also two others, one of whom is very tall, with a shock of dark hair, with the other, a blonde, perched on his shoulders. The blonde looks like a grade-schooler. How is he in high school?

Kyoya, whom I begin to think I may be able to get along with, begins to explain my idea. He catches on quick...

"I believe this young lady - Akira, was it? - wishes to become a host." He tilts his head down so his glasses catch the light.

"A girl host?" The twins say in unison.

"Takashi, is she going to be a host, too?" The little blonde boy asks. I make a note of his companion's name.

I look around the room. My heart pounds. This has never happened before. Everyone is looking at me, talking to me and about me. For once in my life, I am the center of attention. I think the room is spinning. I feel a hand brush my shoulder, and I instinctively jerk away. It's hard to breathe. I find myself gasping, my hands clamming in cold sweat. I'm having a panic attack. It's just like whenever someone tries to put me into a classwork group, or force me to speak in front of a crowd. Calm down! I'm scared. I don't know why, I shouldn't be. Yet, I am. So I do what I always do in this situation. I recite a section of my favorite poem, one which I interpret as facing down a social being and overcoming obstacles.

As of with agile flesh and cunning leers, they seek to multiply my fears,  
But I whirl my blade with a swish and hiss, because I've been there and I've done this.  
I've seen the sands that hides the stains, I've seen the corpses bound in chains.  
I've seen the demon lord called Hob, I've heard the falling virgins sob.  
And I know the pit where his mother lies, I've smelled the blood, heard the drone of flies  
Seen the vultures haunt the skies  
And I know this dance, I know it's pattern well, even better than the path to Hell!

There's more, but I'm calm now. My breathing is even, and the voices have stopped. It's silent. I open my eyes, which I didn't know I'd closed. I brush a strand of hair out of my face and look up from my lap. Fourteen eyes are locked on me.

"That.. was beautiful!" Tamaki gasps. It takes me a few seconds to realize I said the poem out loud. I feel heat rushing to my cheeks to the point it feels like my face is on fire.

"I-I'm sorry, it's something I do to calm down, and I w-was nervous, it was so l-l-loud," I'm back to stammering again. Absolutely great. I manage to lift my chin a little and am extremely surprised.

It seems like I got to them in a way only a girl can. Huh.

"Well," Kyoya says, breaking the silence. "Taking that into account, as well as the fact that Akira does have a point with the whole 'servicing the men' thing," He stops himself. "You are the only girl, so you'll have to please a lot of boys if this is going to work. Do you think you can do that?"

"No," I say confidently. "I'm sure I can." I look directly at him, and get an idea. I arrange my features into what I really hope is a sly, suggestive look, and stand. I glide over to Tamaki, and place my fingers lightly over his cheeks, tilting his head down to look into my eyes.

"I can be anything you want me to be," I say in a low voice, sweeping my lashes over my hazel eyes. Without looking, I can tell he's blushing, if only a little. A thought strikes me as I'm wondering why that is. Maybe he's never met anyone who can do something like that before, go from panic attack to unknowingly reciting poetry to the position I'm in now.

I remove my hands and look directly at the veteran hosts. They all wear matching looks of amazement. Maybe none of them have ever met anyone like me before.

"Gentlemen," Kyoya says, looking at Tamaki over the top of my head, who I can see nod out of the corner of my eye, "I believe we have ourselves our first lady apprentice."


	5. My First Host Meeting

I find myself smiling. Sure, they told me why they do what they do - to bring a smile to a lady's face - but I also can't help feeling really bad. My only reason for wanting to join this club is to prove that I'm socially competent enough to handle my family's business. Still, I can put on a good show.

"Okay, then," Tamaki says, voice cutting through the murmurs like a knife, "Akira, you will pay close attention to the next few meetings. We will teach you all we can, but you'll have to figure a lot out for yourself, as we don't serve boys often." I give him a stern nod and find myself beaming again. This is my ticket! My company is practically in my hands already!

The rest of the day and the next morning passes in a blur. I made an effort to talk to people more, but it only worked on some occasions, what with my selective mutism and all. It seems like this Host Club are all celebrities among Ouran. All the girls talk about who is handsomer and who does what and when Kyoya is going to release the next photo album. There's one bit of gossip spreading like wildfire, however. It's the fact that someone learned that the club is taking on a new apprentice. I can specifically recall conversing about this topic with a girl who's name I think starts with a K at lunch.

"A new host?" I asked, prodding more information out of her.

"Yes! He's going to be at the meeting today. I can't wait to see who he is! Do you think he'll be as good as Tamaki or Haruhi?"

"I think the new host will surprise you," I say with a tiny smile at my inside information. I may as well not spoil the surprise for this girl.

"Really? Well, I really can't wait! Maybe Tamaki will train him specially, or-" I stopped listening at this point.

Now, I sit on the same overstuffed couch I occupied yesterday. It's minutes until the club opens it's doors. Doubts crash through my mind. I'm going to make a huge fool of myself. I'm going to take one look at a customer and have a panic attack. I can't - I won't - I'll be awful. I'll ruin the host club for good and my company will slip through my fingers.

"Okay! We're going to open the doors now! Is everyone ready?" I hear a call from Tamaki. I look up, and my heart starts pounding. My poem floats through my mind instinctively.

As of with agile flesh and cunning leers, they seek to multiply my fears

"I think so!"

But I whirl my blade with a swish and hiss, because I've been there and I've done this.

I try to think of a time when I was completely confident. A time when I had friends. Fifth grade, probably.

I've seen the sand that hides the stains, I've seen the corpses bound with chains.  
I've seen the demon lord called Hob, I've heard the falling virgins sob.  
I know the pit where his mother lies, I've smelled the blood, heard the drone of flies  
Seen the vultures haunt the skies  
And I know this dance, I know it's pattern well, even better than the path to Hell!

I can do this. I've gotten by so far.

So I lift my blade and lick my lips until six eyes pop like orange pips  
And I shuffle left and I shuffle right, and strike a blow with all my might.  
Through helmet, hauberk, shield and breast, my blade cuts from east to west  
Faster than a falcon stoops to prey, my blade cuts the fiend away  
O' boastful lord of this ancient tree, what a fool you were to mess with me!

"Ready," I whisper. The door slides open, revealing a crowd of young girls dressed similarly as me.

"Welcome, ladies. We were waiting," the hosts say in unison. The crowd proceeds forward. I rise to my feet, and glide over to stand slightly behind the other hosts. The crowd stops. All eyes are on me. Again. The poem slides through my mind and I take a deep breath and try to untangle my hands from the folds of my skirt. There is complete silence. I can feel confusion rising off them in waves. My breath hitches and I can feel air sluggishly swirling in my lungs, stale because I haven't thought to inhale. The hosts, still with smiles plastered on their faces, turn from me to the crowd. I really want someone, anyone, to say something. Save me!

The last line of the poem fades from my mind. A wave on confidence fill me to the core. I take a shaky breath and compose myself. You're a host's apprentice, now get a grip and act like it! This was your idea anyway.

"Hello. My name is Akira Helleusa. I am at your service." I release my breath as the crowd moves uneasily forward again. I seem to have said the right thing.

I do what I am told, and stick close to the other hosts. I observe them all, and try to pick up on their little tricks. Tamaki prefers to be really, really close to his guests. Kyoya seems to like being coldhearted and selling things. I find I was correct in my prediction that the twins have a little secret; it seems they have a sort of relationship that can only be described as brotherly love. Haruhi is the familiar, down-to-earth one, smiling constantly like an old friend. The one called Takashi by his companion and Mori by the guests is quiet and seems to favor sitting in front of the little blonde one - who's name I learn is Honey - and watching him stuff his face with various cakes. He's got to have a fabulous metabolism if he continuously eats cake and is so small.

I bring the hosts tea and some kind of coffee prepared only with water that they insisted all their guests love. I sneak a cup for myself and take a large sip. It's bitter and hot. It surprises me, and I spit it back into the general direction of the cup. I miss entirely, splattering the dark liquid all over my bright dress. Wonderful blundering, Akira, I scold myself. I empty the rest of the stuff into a potted plant and rush into the bathroom across the hall from the club room.

It feels really nice to get away from the chaos for a moment. I wet a cloth and dab it against my dress, only succeeding in making a large, wet stain and smearing the bitter coffee around. I groan and lean against the bathroom wall, directly across from the door. I hold the cloth against a fabric a moment longer before letting out a frusterated, strangled noise and slamming the paper cloth into the trash bin. Then, there's a knock on the door. I hear a muffled voice from the other side.

"Akira? Is it just you in there?" I look under the few stalls for feet and call out a confirmation. The door swings open to reveal Tamaki.

"What's wrong?" he asks, concern lacing his voice. Well, besides the fact that I can barely function in crowds without the help of poetry and I'm trying to be the only girl host here? Oh, absolutely nothing.

"I stained my dress," is all I say. But I really, really want to start crying with the pressure of it all. Tamaki seems to pick up on this, as he slides into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

"That's not all, is it?" I shake my head, already on the verge of tears. What the hell was I thinking? I can't do this! As of with agile flesh and cunning leers...

"I'm not used to this. So many people. They all look at me like I'm - I'm... an alien. It's so... I can't do it, Tamaki."

"Yes you can. Just do what you did yesterday. That was great!"

"What, breaking down or the poetry thing?"

He seems to think it over, and then says, "I know just the person to help you!"


	6. Renewal

I wait until after all the guests have left in pairs and trios. Then, I quietly slip back into the room, unnoticed by the boys, who are collecting stray teacups and chit chatting among themselves. I twirl my hair around my fingers, a habit I've had since before I can remember. Then, Honey, mouth ringed with chocolate frosting, notices me and comes bounding over.

"Aki-chan!" He plows into me and I nearly fall over in my incorrigible high heeled shoes.

"H-Hello," I stammer, still embarrassed by the coffee mishap. The boy giggles, beams at me, and prances off. Sadly, his loudness was enough to attract the attention of the other hosts. As they all turn to look at me, eyes full of questions, I realize how awful I must look. My dress is has a large, very noticeable stain on the large, very noticeable skirt. My short brown hair must be sticking up everywhere, and I have no doubt that my face is redder than an apple. I think I managed to catch a glance at my reflection as I was leaving the bathroom, and I try to recall that image. I just blush harder, if that's possible.

"I apologize for leaving so suddenly. I stained my dress." I state the obvious.

"Yeah, no kidding," says one of the twins. I bite my lip and stare at my shoes. "You look awful," the other twin says.

I've never really cared much about appearances in my life. I think, however, in the host club, looking pretty may prove invaluable. Except, I don't know how to make myself look pretty. The hosts glance at one another, obviously debating something. I don't bother asking them what it is. Something seems slightly off about their conversation. I'm entertaining these thoughts when I feel something.

A vicious rumbling vibrates the floor. It increases so dramatically that I find myself propping my hand on the wall to keep my balance. A girl's high-pitched, evil laughter mingles with the rumbling. It's enough to send barbs of fear into my heart.

"Hello, boys," a voice says. I crack open my eyes, which I'd squeezed shut, thinking the rumbling was an earthquake. A girl about my age stands on a raised platform. She wears the same Ouran uniform I do, so she must be a student. I have no idea where she came from.

"I thought I was your first girl host. Oh, how times have changed." She says, dismounting. I feel an unwelcome stab of jealousy.

"You were never a host, Renge" Kyoya says. I straighten up. This should be interesting.

"So, who are you?" the new girl turns to me and crosses her arms. I would be really offended, but if the hosts trust her, she must be worth something.

"A-Akira Helleusa," I say, the lines of my poem sliding through my mind like a snake. A really comforting, familiar snake.

Renge scrutinizes me for a few more seconds, then turns to the hosts, who sigh. They huddle together in a semicircle, whispering. I don't note their rudeness, as I'm too interested listening in on their conversation. I catch little bits of it, but no enough to put together anything useful.

"...girl host... type?"

"Maybe a... progress... keep..."

"Akira could be... just a little?"

"Probably. But... listening. Keep quiet." There's a pause, and I can't hear much more after that.

"...knows..."

"R... shy..." There's another long pause before they turn back to me. I find myself amused at their attempts to figure me out. If I wasn't me, I'd have a hard time figuring me out. Well, I am me and I'm still trying to figure myself out. I look up and realize they're all staring at me blankly. I must have tuned something they said out. I blink at them.

"What?"

"You're the shy type!" Renge says.

"What?" I repeat.

"The shy type. See, all the hosts have a type. Tamaki is the princely type, Kyoya is the cool type, the twins are the devilish type, Honey is the boy Lolita, Mori is the stoic type, Haruhi is the natural, and you're the shy type!"

"What?" I ask again. My mind is blank. I'm just not latching on to her concept.

"Well, some boys like to feel in control of a situation. So you have to be cute and appear sort of pitiful, without being absolutely helpless. You have to be strong, because you've been living mostly alone your whole life. You've never had many friends, so the host club is a new, exciting, and somewhat terrifying experience for you."

"Wow," I say, utterly astounded. "You're good."

"I know," she says. "Do something cute."

"What?"

"Something cute."

"I heard you." I grumble. I lean myself back on the wall and try to think of something embarrassing. I feel a slight blush forming on my cheeks. I tug on my hair with my left hand, and look at the girl through my lashes. She shows absolutely no emotion. I ponder how I can kick it up a notch, and try to hide a smirk. I bite my lip, and pull my hair over my eyes. I feel a tear slide down my pink-tinted cheeks. Perfect.

"That was great! Now...," she says as I sigh and brush the tear away. "How are we going to make you cute?"

"Hey!" I say, offended. I can be cute if I tried... maybe.

"Got it!"

I have no idea what events led me to be in the situation I am now. There was a lot of shoving, and at one point someone thrust a bundle of clothes into my hands. After a very long process of deciding 'what looks best on me' (as the twins put it) I am now wearing a fitted black dress that sort of resembles a Steampunk style, with a skirt that drips off my hips and down to my knees, and leather boots that seem to melt off from the top. Renge managed to do what little hair I have into a fancy pulled back ponytail that flows down to my shoulders and matches the whole outfit very well. I admire myself in the mirror. She managed to put me together quite nicely. My full lips stand out, my hair frames my face, the smooth skin of my neck and collarbone are shown off by the dress's cut. I look cute in a sort of punk-ish way. I actually look amazing.

Renge pushes me out of the closed off dressing room, where the host club was waiting patiently. I stumble through the curtains, but catch myself easily in the shoes that I'm so grateful aren't high heels. The whole club looks from me to Renge, marveling at her work.

"You did a good job," Tamaki says.

"I never thought-" starts one twin

"-That Akira could be pretty." finishes the second.

"Now, now, don't tell me you've fallen for me." I say with a wink. This outfit seems to lend me much-needed confidence. I silently thank Renge a thousand times. I could definitely get used to all this.

"Aki-chan, are you going to get customers tomorrow?"

"Maybe, Honey-senpai."

To my surprise, the thought of meeting new people doesn't make me feel sick to my stomach. It could be the cute dress, but maybe... I'm changing. Fear threatens to consume me. No... that's not fear. That's... excitement.


	7. Wars Were Fought

I've been waiting for lunchtime all day. I'll get to see who I can invite to the Host Club. as I'm entering the cafeteria and looking at the people crowding into the small space, I realize how much I hate society. People separate themselves into groups and cliques so easily! It makes me disgusted. Almost. Then there's the excitement that hasn't died down since yesterday. It's a powerful thing, excitement. I feel my feet move without thinking, and I'm sitting down at a table before I can stop myself.

"Hello. Can I sit here?" I hear myself say, and snap into reality. My face goes red hot, and I find my hands shaking. Oh no, not here. Not a panic attack here... As of agile flesh and cunning leers, they seek to multiply my fears.

"Sure!" A voice says. A boy. I'm actually talking to someone. No backing out now.

"My name is Akira,"

"Tomio," he introduces himself. "This is Daiki." There's a pause. I'm about to say something, when the boy with pale blonde hair and icy blue eyes who introduced himself as Tomio says "You're the girl from the Host Club, right?"

"Yeah. You've heard of me?"

"Everyone has," the second one, Daiki, says. "No girl has ever joined the Host Club before. They're legends! At least, all the girls say they are. Tomio and I have always wanted to see what they go on about, but if two dudes showed up there, people would ask questions."

I take a deep breath and clench my hands under the table. No panicking now. "Well, I'm accepting customers today, if you'd like to make an appointment. I'd really appreciate it."

The two boys look at one another for a second. My breath hitches. I did something wrong...

"We'd love to!" Tomio says.

"Yeah, we'll be there!" Daiki agrees.

"Thank you." I force a tint to my cheeks and twist my finger in my hair. "I can't wait to see you." I get up from the table and try to find a way out of here. It suddenly seems just a little too crowded, too noisy, too... My heart starts beating and my knees feel wobbly. I think I was holding off a panic attack unknowingly. I have to get out of here. My palms are clenching my skirt tightly as I break into a jog. I slip in the heels and nearly land in someone's lunch. Screw this. I slip off my heels, pick them up, and sprint down the hall in just my socks. I don't even care at this point, I just need to be away from here!

I round corners and race down halls until I reach a door. The door. My door. I slide the handle open and slip into Music Room Three. My heart pounds and my breath heaves. I slide down the door, landing in a pile of skirts on the floor. I scold myself, berate myself for being so... messed up! How am I going to get through a whole host meeting if I can't get through a decent conversation without running away? A frustrated tear escapes my eyes, followed by another, and another, until I'm sitting on the music room floor, sobbing uncontrollably. How can I do this? Why am I like this? How can I stop it? Why am I like this? I recite my poem as loud as I can through my sobs, but it's not working. I dig my nails into the soft skin of my forearm, trying to block out the questions. Four matching beads of blood swell against my nails, staining them red, and runs down my arm, dripping off my fingers and on to the floor.

"Stop that," a voice says. A hand, cool to the touch, grasps my wrist and pulls my fingers away from the holes I've wrenched deep into my arms. I jump, startled. Another set of fingers lifts my chin and brushes away my tears. I look up into the violet eyes of Tamaki. He kneels on the hard tile next to me, dangerously close to the small pool of blood that's forming under my dripping fingers.

Waves of shame crash through me. I lied to the whole Host Club when I put on that little show. I pretended to be someone cool and confident and sexy. I acted like I knew what I was doing, like I did it all the time. I don't, and I didn't, and I never will, not if I continue to be so, well, me.

"I'm sorry, Tamaki. I'm so sorry." I gasp, pressing my blood-splattered hands into my face. How can I ever meet his eyes again after I lied to him so openly?

"You didn't do anything," he says. He's so openly ignorant that I find myself holding back giggles.

"What's so funny?" Tamaki asks, obviously amused by my sudden change in attitude.

"Nothing."

"Let's get you cleaned up." He tries to pull me up, but I grab his lapels and force him to look at me.

"Tamaki, I really am sorry." I say, throwing as much sincerity into the words as possible. Tamaki stares openly at me with his violet eyes. I can tell he has no idea what I'm talking about. Maybe that's a good thing.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Tamaki leads me into a bathroom, washes the blood from my hands, arms, and face, and sends me on my way. The bleeding stopped, but the scabs are hard to hide. I skip my next few classes, hiding in the corners of the library, and keeping my arm tilted away. I'm going to need a good story to get that past my guests today.

My guests. The thought brings a mixture of excitement and dread. Maybe I can prove to myself that I could be what I promised to the Club. Then again, maybe I'll just embarrass myself to the point of no return. Hah, I think to myself with a smirk, Embarrassment. Why am I so worried about it? I mean, I just completely humiliated myself in front of Tamaki, and he's probably laughing at me as we speak- I cut that thought off. The suggestion that Tamaki is laughing at me behind my back puts a lump in my throat. Then, I have a second thought. Why am I so worried about Tamaki's opinion? Of course, it's because he's the club's leader. He and the other hosts have to like me if I am to stay in. But why did my thoughts immediately go to Tamaki and not another host? Because Tamaki was nice to me. So was everyone else. Tamaki's different. Why? He's Tamaki. He's just special. So... Tamaki's special, eh? Shut up.

And then I realize I was talking to myself, so I drum my fingers on the table and hate myself for a little while. An interesting thought pops into my head when I am contemplating why I had these thoughts. I am my own destruction.


	8. Debut

I glance at the clock and try to brush my disturbing thoughts away. It's fifteen minutes until the club opens. Fifteen minutes until my first day. Fifteen minutes until the rest of my life. I'll kill something if I'm late. I push myself roughly up from the table, where I was amusing myself by trying to sit perfectly still, and rush out of the library. I only trip twice on my way up the stairs, and nearly fall into the music room. The whole club looks like they were waiting for me.

"Glad you could make it," A twin jokes. I note the lilting tone of his voice, slightly higher than his brother's.

"Me too, Kaoru," I surprise him by using his name.

"I'm Kaoru," The other twin says. I just look at them with what I hope says 'Stop trying to lie to me, I'm too smart for that'.

"Are you ready, Akira? This is your big day!" Haruhi walks briskly up to me, stepping between me and the twins, who are leaning on one another and having some silent conversation using only their eyes.

"No," I say. "But I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"You'll be great, I promise." Haruhi responds. I find myself smiling back at him. His smile is contagious. In a way, he sort of reminds me of me. It's definitely not his personality, which pretty much couldn't be more opposite. Maybe it's the way he walks, or the way he treats the world, like he only cares about one thing. Strangely fememine, I ponder.

"What?" Haruhi asks, visibly paling.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes," he says, eyes widening at me. Heat rises to my cheeks.

"I-I didn't mean to offend you, I j-just was thinking to mys-self and-"

"It's okay," he cuts me off with a smile even Tamaki would be jealous of. He walks away slowly, like he's afraid a bomb will go off if he moves too fast. He and Tamaki launch into an animated conversation, which the twins soon join, as well as Mori and Honey.

Ten minutes later, I'm feeling really lonely and awkward. Only Kyoya sits alone, while the rest of the hosts constantly throw me strange, horrified, confused looks. I go to sit by Kyoya, fishing for a conversation. I need to feel at home right now more than ever.

"Hello, Kyoya,"

"Akira," he addresses me without looking up from his computer. He glances from his screen to his notebook and sighs, pushing the computer away.

"Are you okay?" I ask him.

"Yes," The raven haired boy pushes his fingers through his hair. "Tamaki's whims are hard to keep up with, though."

"Do you want any help?" I ask before I can think about what I'm asking. Kyoya just smirks at me. The smile is as concealing as it is obviously saying 'I doubt you can keep up with me, stupid little girl'. I try to look him in the eye, but his glasses are like some impassable shield that blocks me from his soul. I try to hide my anger at his underestimation of me.

"You should go prepare for the meeting." I hear 'Go away'. Then, as an afterthought, he says "Good luck." My spirits are lifted. I smile at the vice president.

I practically skip away and prop myself on the back of the couch staring at the door. Any minute, Tamaki is going to open them. As if reading my mind, Tamaki announces that he's going to do just that. And he does. My hands start shaking, and I try to stand fully up, but my knees wobble, and I trip on the high heels and fall to the ground. I push myself up quickly, sharp pain shooting up my sore arm that I ripped up hours earlier.

A crowd of ladies in the same bright yellow dress as I wear comes flowing into the door. The hosts peel away to their various appointments, and leave me standing awkwardly alone, waiting.

"Hey, Akira!"

I turn at the sound of my name. The boy I remember inviting to the meeting, Tomio, greets me like we're old friends. He drags Daiki behind him. I maul over this friends thought. Maybe we are friends by normal standards. It's not like I'd know; I'd never had any friends before. Are the host club my friends? Are they something less, maybe benefactors or coworkers? Or something more?

"I'm glad you could come," I say, seating myself and gesturing for them to sit across from me.

"So, this is what they do around here?" Daiki asks distantly, gazing around the room.

"Yeah. What do you think?"

"It's... strange," Tomio says, following Daiki's gaze to where the twins are caressing one another's face. "No offense or anything." He adds quickly with a nervous laugh. He's just as nervous as I am.

"None taken. In fact, I agree."

"Really?" Daiki prods. "Why did you become a host then?" I immediately know I have to lie. Saying my real intentions will not go over well to my (as Renge calls it) "shy girl" image. I feel a little heat rising to my cheeks, and twirl my hair around my finger.

"Well," I say, already weaving a perfect story in my head, "This is a little embarrassing." I laugh nervously and scratch my fingernail against the smooth wood of the table. "I never really had many friends. I actually have a social anxiety disorder..." I trail off, turning beet read. That's a little more truth than I would have liked to reveal. The two boys wear matching looks of... what? Surprise? Awe? I can't really tell. I try to get a sensitive reaction out of them by letting a tear slip through my lashes and fall on the table like an offering. A piece of me, of my secrets.

"Hey," Tomio says gently. I look up. "It's okay." Tomio wears a gentle look, like I might start screaming my head off if he acts rashly. Daiki just stares at the table awkwardly. He probably doesn't like crying. I brush the wetness from my cheeks and smirk inwardly. I hooked Tomio, though. Simple. This is easy.

"I'm sorry," I apologize with a weak laugh that releases a little tension. "I'm just not used to this."

The rest of the conversation continues in the same manner. I act my part of a shy sociopath. I even, to Tomio's prodding, recite my poem to a very enthusiastic reaction from my guests. They must share my love of poetry, as we launch into an extensive session of sharing our favorite poems and poets and quoting literature. Daiki and Tomio seem to enjoy the more famous American poets, like Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson. I keep to the smaller poets. The time flys by, and before I know it, Tomio and Daiki are bidding me goodbye.

"It was fun, Akira," Tomio says. I agree, waving them off. They disappear through the door, and I slump back in my chair, groaning at myself. That definitely could have gone better. I feel my hands start to shake and I struggle to inhale. Crap, I think, darting into the changing room and whipping the curtain closed. I wrap my arms around myself and fall to my knees, my eyes squeezing shut.

"Aki-chan?" Someone calls. "Are you okay?" I try to say yes, but my breath is coming in short, labored gasps.

"Ye-" I gasp "Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine!" I shout, more sternly then I intended. The curtain whips open, revealing Mori, with Honey perched on his shoulders. Embarrassment rushes through me when they see me in such a vulnerable state. Heat beats my cheeks and I angrily cross my arms and stand, wobbly. Even with my height, I only come to Mori's shoulders, so I have to tilt my head up to look at him.

"I - I'm okay," I force a smile. I take a moment to compose myself, and brush past Mori and back into the club's main room.

The activities are still in full swing. On the couches, Kaoru and Hikaru are laughing at something Tamaki said. All three young men are surrounded by giggling, gasping, shrieking young ladies. Haruhi is enjoying a cup of tea with a pair of pretty second years. Kyoya is spreading a series of laminated photos on a dark wood table for a semicircle of several girls. It's easy to call them my friends at first glance. They've been so kind to me. But I'm really only doing this to prove myself to my demanding mother. The guilt bites deeply into me again. So far, I've avoided lying straight-out, but some may call withholding the truth lying. I sigh and watch as Mori and Honey leave the changing room and rejoin a small group of girls in one corner. Honey throws me an over the shoulder grin. I tilt the corners of my lips up and lift my hand to him. He turns around and converses easily with the ladies.

My gaze moves to Haruhi. He's definitely one of the most popular, as a friendly figure. Something is off about him. He looks up, catches my eye, and waves me over. I force yet another small smile and glide over to his table.

"Hi, Haruhi," I greet cheerily.

"Hi. Want to join us?"

"If it's okay with you."

Agreements all around meet my ears. I drag an empty chair to the table and sit down.

"I'm Akira," I introduce myself to Haruhi's guests. They return their names.

"I'm Beth and this is Kayla." One of the girls gestures to each of them.

"Is that American?" I ask politely, not actually caring. I study them and come to the conclusion that they are sisters.

"Yes." Kayla says. I put myself on autopilot the rest of the club time, answering as politely as possible and only when I have to. I pay attention to my surroundings when the last of the guests filter out. I clutch the back of the couch and force myself to not have a panic attack. They come on randomly, and in varying degrees of severity. I never know when I'll have one, so I'm pretty much constantly afraid of breaking down in public.

"How was your first day, Akira?" the twins ask me, appearing in my line of sight. I reflect a little. If you don't count the mini attack I had in the changing room, I actually had a lot of fun. I give the twins a hopeful smile and stand up fully.

"It was fun. I think my guests liked me."

"By the way," a cool voice cuts in. Kyoya stands from his seat in the corner and closes his laptop. "We're cosplaying tomorrow. We'll order a costume for you and it should be here by tomorrow afternoon."

"As what?" I ask, worrying they might dress me up as something really embarrassing.

"You'll see," the twins say in unison. They press their faces close together and give me a vicious smile. That can never be a good sign.


	9. Belly Dancing?

"Oh no," I groan upon entering the club room. I knew that they were cosplaying today, but I didn't know what the costumes were. Today, they're all dressed in what looks like Arabian outfits. I think I saw an American children's movie like it once, about a young man who grew up on the street and ended up marrying the princess. I think it was called Aladdin.

"What is this about?" I ask, announcing my presence.

"We're cosplaying," Tamaki explains.

"That's not it. You all look like male strippers." My voice screams displeasure, trying to hide the fact that my heart is pounding and my face feels like it's on fire. Blood leaks from my nose. I hold a hand up to cover my nose and mouth, and hold my hand out for my costume.

"Showing a little skin is popular with the ladies," Kyoya defends.

"J-Just hand i-it over," I direct my sentence into the floor. A bundle of cloth is pressed into my hand, and I scurry into the changing room. Once inside, I wipe my upper lip and try to get my blush to go down. Upon succeeding, I unfold my outfit and groan. I reluctantly put it on and check my reflection in the mirror.

The pants are billowy and reach down to just above my ankles, where they are cinched off. The shirt hangs off my shoulders and presses tightly just under my belly button, showing off a sliver of my hips. The tile floor is cool against my bare feet. I spin in a circle and smile at myself. I arrange my hair on my shoulders, fold my school uniform, and nervously push back the curtain of the changing room. I stomp into the main room and say,

"How did you know this would fit, Kyoya senpai?"

"Lucky guess." He says. For the first time, I notice the extreme decorations the hosts put up around the music room. Swathes of multicolored fabrics lines the walls and wrap around the columns. Potted plants lay in random places throughout the room. The whole place looks like a psychodelic greenhouse.

"Is this not a little over the top?" I ask, making a sweeping gesture that encompasses the whole room.

"No," Tamaki says, feinting offense. He was engaging in a conversation with Haruhi, who is not dressed up. "This is perfect."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

"Besides the fact that you're dressing me up like a prostitute? Nothing."

"You don't look like a prostitute. Not that there's anything wrong with prostitutes. You look pretty."

Did he really just say that? I blush harder than ever. The room is dead quiet in an awkward silence. I guess everyone is a little surprised by Tamaki's outburst. Someone clears their throat.

"You do look pretty, Aki-chan!" Honey announces, breaking the tension and trying to cover up Tamaki's blunder.

"Thank you," I mutter, still embarrassed by Tamaki.

"Belly dancer," I hear Haruhi comment from in front of the silent Tamaki.

"I'm a belly dancer?" I ask. "Who's idea was this?" I suddenly feel enraged. Somebody - my guess is Kyoya - did this on purpose.

"Tamaki's," the vice president says. I groan quietly. Something is off about that boy. I decide to do a little test.

"Was it?" I wonder out loud, biting my lip. Tamaki looks up. "Maybe I wanted to see me belly dance."

"No!" the blonde protests. I mock him by shaking my hips sharply. Tamaki mutters something into the palm of his hand. I exhale disapprovingly in his direction with a little pft sound. Yep, he has problems.

"The firsts guests are arriving shortly," Kyoya interjects. He crosses the room to the door, practically wading through awkward tension, and takes a place on the overstuffed couch. I'm still a little flabbergasted that my first cosplay is as a belly dancer.

The guests arrive after a long session of (yet again) more awkward silence. Tamaki has thoroughly embarrassed himself, and me in the process. I am still blushing profusely when Tomio walks through the door. I nervously walk over to greet him.

"Hi, Tomio," I say.

"Hey." He takes in my costume and raises an eyebrow.

"I'm a belly dancer," I sigh. "Not my idea."

"Ah."

"Could Daiki not come?" I change the subject.

"No, sorry."

"I would say I'm sorry but I'm glad we could spend some time alone." I give Tomio an embarrassed grin, which he returns. We seat ourselves at a side table and launch into a friendly conversation. I tell him about myself, and he returns the favor. I find myself talking to Tomio like an old friend. The feeling is really, really nice. Eventually, another young man interjects.

"Excuse me?" he says.

"Oh, hi." I say with a smile. "Can I help you?"

"Akira? I'm Masaou," he says. "I made an appointment?"

"Oh," I say, a little bit pleased. I have a new customer. "Will I see you tomorrow, Tomio?" The boy gets up and pushes his chair in, nodding. When he's gone, Masaou seats himself in the chair previously filled by Tomio.  
"How are you?" I ask politely.

"Fine. And you?"

"A little bit angry at Tamaki for putting me in this costume," I say with a nervous giggle, dropping my head to stare at the wood table. Masaou laughs uproarously, like I just said something hilarious. I raise my eyebrows in surprise, but quickly wipe the look off my face and replace it with one of amusement.

"I've got a joke, too," he says. The last half of the club time I spend fake laughing at Masaou's horrible jokes. Only one is actually funny. I can't really remember it, but it was something about cucumbers and a hammer. Finally, when he leaves, I am completely wiped out. He's the last one gone.

"Akira," Kyoya says. I've layed my head on the table and closed my eyes.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"Can I take your picture?"

"No,"

"You can't stop me, so you may as well make the pose good. You don't want to lose customers."

Without another word, I stand, put on a cute smile, and pose for the snap of Kyoya's camera.

"Done?" I ask.

"Yes."

I walk away and throw myself down on the overstuffed couch. I close my eyes again, but am disturbed once more.

"Akira?" I can hear the nervousness in his voice. I crack open an eye and see Tamaki. I have to say, he looks really good in his costume. I prop my head in my palm, strech my bare feet over the side of the couch and ask him what he wants.

"I'm sorry for embarrassing you earlier."

"You embarrassed yourself more than me." I note.

"Well, I'm still sorry."

"Don't apologize. I should really be thanking you."

"What for?"

"That time you save me from ripping my own arm off." I tilt my forearm so that he can see the four jagged, crescent shaped scars my fingernails made during a panic attack. Tamaki agrees nervously and sits crossed legged on the floor in front of me. We sit in silence for a moment, looking openly at one another. His beautiful violet eyes stare deep into my hazel ones. I find the whole thing ironic. The Arabian king, Tamaki, and his knights, the club, and his one lonely little belly dancer. I could be anything you want me to be. I smile at Tamaki.

"What is it?" He asks, amused.

"Nothing. It's just... being in the Host Club is," I give Tamaki a pointed look "I'm really glad I fell in this room."

"Me too."

Silence again. Then,

"Akira?"

"Hmm hmm?"

"Have you ever been to the beach?"

"Once when I was little. My family doesn't really go on vacations."

"Do you like it?"

"Sure," I say. "Why?"

Tamaki gives me a sly grin and gets up.


	10. Moonlight

I like the beach as much as the next girl. It's really especially interesting to me. Sand, salt water, sand, sun, more sand, and sunscreen. This trip is for sure going to be amazing. Turns out, Kyoya's family has a huge house right next to the beach. I was immediately ecstatic at the thought. My imagination consisted of a fun, friendly trip with the host club relaxing on the sand. However, no one thought to tell me that we were bringing the clients. Everyone who chose to go is arriving tomorrow, so this evening, we have the beach to ourselves.

"What do you think, Akira?" Tamaki asks as if it's the first time I've ever seen the beach before.

"I've been to the beach before, Tamaki. I just want to go swim." I say, setting my towel down. I kick off my sandals, take off my sunglasses, and unbutton my shirt, revealing my swim suit. I throw it on the pile and race toward the water. Swimming has always been one of my favorite things in the whole world.

The salt water feels amazing on my bare skin. Excited, I dive under the gentle waves and shiver in delight as the water rolls over my shoulders and back. I surface and turn to face the sandy beach. Tamaki lounges next to Haruhi on a beach towel under a large umbrella. Kyoya, jeans rolled up on his legs, stand with his hands in his pockets and feet in the water watching the horizon. The twins race toward the ocean. Mori kneels in the sand watching as Honey piles sand into a plastic bucket.

"Akira, come here!" the twins call in unison. They're already up to their elbows in seawater, their hands hidden. I wade over to where they stand.

"Yeah?" I ask. Suddenly, they reveal water guns hidden under the water and squirt me simultaneously. I scream a "Hey!" in surprise and stumble back, falling into the water. Spitting and coughing, I resurface and glare at the twins as they laugh at me. I pounce on the one on the left, pushing his shoulders under the water. I let him go immediately, giggling as he spits out water. His brother furiously pumps the gun and sprays me mercilessly. I splash as fast as possible to the safety of the hot sand. Kaoru and Hikaru chase me with their water guns trained at my back. I hear shouts of delight from them as they give chase. I scramble behind Kyoya and use him as a shield.

"Akira, come here!" Hikaru says.

"This isn't fair; I don't have a weapon!"

"That's what makes it fun!" Kaoru counters. I race from behind Kyoya and collapse on to the sand, tired. Kaoru and Hikaru spray me until their guns run out of water, then move on. Our chase lasted a lot longer than I thought. The sun is sinking behind the waves, casting the sky in pink streaks and making the water look like amber. I sit up, and walk slowly to the waves. I let the water lap at my feet and sand cover them.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" I say, mostly to Kyoya but a little to myself.

"I suppose," he says. I look at him. The glare on his glasses are casting his eyes in a mask of white.

"Come on. It's pretty, admit it." Kyoya looks from me to the horizon.

"Yes," he finally says with a smile, "It is."

We fall into silence. I find myself enjoying his company. Does that make him my friend? Does he consider me his friend?

"Hey, Kyoya?" I ask, not looking at him.

"Yes?"

"Are we friends?" Kyoya looks at me, and I meet his eyes.

"Why are you asking this?"

"I-I was just wondering. I m-mean, I've never h-h-had a real friend before, so I was wondering." Kyoya graces me with another smile. I take that as a yes. Relief floods me and I find myself grinning. I'm part of a group of friends, and people care about me. It's so overwhelming that a tear leaks trough my lashes. I throw my arms around Kyoya's shoulders.

"Thank you," I whisper to him. He doesn't hug me back, so I release him and leave. He'll come around.

A couple hours later when everyone is tired and hungry, we gather in the dining room for dinner. I combed out my hair and change. Everyone is here except Haruhi and my stomach is growling. I don't voice this though.

The door opens and Haruhi slips in...

...Wearing a dress?

"Sorry I'm late everyone. I was looking for some pants but my dad packed all this frilly stuff again." He sits himself at a place and tries to start a conversation. What confuses me most is that no one questions why his dad would pack a dress for him.

"Sorry," I cut in "But why are you in a dress?" Everyone looks at me, and I blush.

"You mean you didn't know?" one twin begins. "That Haruhi is a girl?" the other finishes. And it all makes sense.

His - sorry, her - name always seemed strangely feminine. She's really friendly with her guests, and they all treat her like their best friend, while they treat the boy hosts like idols. Haruhi always treats the other hosts the same, but they treat her differently.

"Wait," I say, a thought dawning on me "Why am I here, then?"

"Because Haruhi is a cross dresser," the twins say as if it's obvious.

"Duh," I respond "I mean, why don't you just use Haruhi as a girl host? You wouldn't mind, would you?"

"No. I don't care whether I'm recognized as a boy or a girl," She states.

Silence. My anger rises with every silent second. They lied to me. They said I was their first girl host, the only one who could do what I do. I felt special. They were my first friends, and I thought friends didn't lie to each other.

"Right. Well, you can always find another girl host? I guess I just don't have any practical reason to be here." I push myself up from the table and breeze from the room. A violent panic attack comes on, and I find myself running. My feet take me out the door and down on to the dark beach. I climb a rock outcropping almost automatically. The moon is low and casts a beautiful anti-shadow on the roiling water. I breathe in the salty air and fall on to the smooth rock. I beat the ground with my curled fists. Why would they do something so cruel? Do they have any idea how important they are to me? My first friends, and they go and lie to me from the second I joined the club. Did I not deserve to know? Did they not trust me? Why, why, why! And this panic attack isn't helping in the slightest! I force myself to try to calm down. The skin on my hands is bruised and bleeding. My panic attack subsides little by little, leaving me an empty shell of anger and frustration. My hands throb violently and I whimper in pain. Now I'm just angry at myself for causing myself pain. I cradle my hands against my stomach and stand up shakily.

It feels nice up here. There's a warm breeze and I can see the whole beach. The water is a yawning stretch of tranquility layed out in front of me. I lean over the edge of the outcropping and reach my hand out. I feel like if I can just reach the water, everything will be okay. I lean a little further over. It seems like for every bit I lean, the water gets further away. I sigh and lean back on my heels. Just like my emotional stability. It will always be so far away.

"Akira?" a voice calls.

"Go away," I say.

"I'm sorry. I know you're thinking that we don't trust you, like we lied and betrayed your friendship. So I'm sorry."

I stay silent.

"We all consider you our friend. You're a host now, and that's why we didn't tell you about Haruhi. We knew you'd think we'd lied to you, and we didn't want to hurt you. You have a place in that room. You've earned it."

I turn around slowly. The moonlight illuminates Tamaki's face. Apology and worry is written all over it. I feel my heart melt a little at his sincerity. Then, he says something that I know is true, and makes me realize what a true friend is.

"Once you made your place, you're one of us. We don't leave a friend behind."

I close the space between us and hug him tightly. "I understand," I confirm. Tamaki recovers from his surprise and hugs me back. Suddenly, I release him and blush beet red.

"You want to go back inside? Everyone's worried." I sigh and nod my head. He takes my hand and pulls me gently away from the edge of the rock protrusion. The bruises and cuts on the side of my hand screams in protest. I hiss through my teeth. Tamaki looks at me and lifts my hand to the light. His fingers slide over mine, and he examines the bloody scratches.

"Oh, Akira," he says with a sly smile. "I always clean up after you."

"It's fine," I protest.

"Let's go bandage this up."

A few minutes later, Tamaki is wrapping my hand. We are alone in a whitewashed room with cabinets lining the walls and counters running under them. I sit on a counter, by head on the door to a cabinet, wincing as Tamaki spreads a medicine on my hands that makes them sting. True to the Ootri family business, this place even has a first aid room. A whole room just for first aid! It hits me just how rich and powerful Kyoya's family is.

"You're good at this," I comment, watching as he wraps the bloody side of my hand in tan bandages.

"Thank you. Kyoya taught me," he explains. Figures. He and Kyoya are practically inseparable. I hold my hand up to the light, pretending to examine my fingers. I actually watch Tamaki work on me. His golden hair shines in the electric light. His fingers leave phantom heat wherever the brush my bare skin.

"Done," the boy says, looking at me. "Let's go show everyone that you're okay. I think you should apologize for running out of there, too."

"Okay," I agree reluctantly.

We reach the dining room, and I open the door shyly. All eyes flick to my face. I blush and drop my eyes to the floor.

"I'm s-sorry, everyone, for b-b-being so rude." I stammer at the tiled floor.

"We are, too," Haruhi says. I look up at her sweet face. There's a moment of silence, then Hikaru breaks the silence.

"Now that that's out of the way, can we eat?"


	11. Swimming

I wake the next morning at around eight. My hands are sore, but when I peek under the bandages, they actually don't look as bad as I thought. I wash them under soap and water and dress myself in shorts and a black tank top (over my swim suit, of course). Shoving on my sandals, I pad out the door and down the hall, searching for something useful to do. It's two hours until the first guests are supposed to arrive.

I wander the halls until I hear voices drifting from behind a door.

"So, the guests will arrive at ten," Kyoya is saying.

"Can we go check on the progress..." I can't tell who said it.

"Sure, boss," two voices say in unison. The door opens and Hikaru and Kaoru nearly run in to me.

"Oh, Akira," Hikaru says. Kaoru finishes, "We're having a meeting and didn't want to wake you. Go in there." They tramp off down the hall arm in arm. I enter the room, twirling my hair around my finger. The host club sits around the dining room table. Kyoya's computer is open and he's pretty much the only one doing work. The aforementioned also ignores me as I walk in, but everyone else greets me.

Tamaki walks up to me and inspects the bruises on my hands. Then, pleased, he leads me to the table.

"So, where were we?"

"Just wrapping up," Kyoya says. I sigh. At least I get to skip the meeting.

One hour and fifty five minutes later, all the hosts gather outside the building. Frequent customers are arriving and being greeted by the male hosts. I stand in the doorway, nodding respectfully every time a guest passes. Ladies come and go, greeting their favorite hosts and friends from school. I'm used to existing in the shadows, or I was. When I get attention on a regular basis while walking through the halls, being ignored feels awful. I realize how much I've changed the past days.

"Hey! Akira!" I perk up at my name. He skips up the steps to the doorway, and I smile at my... friend. That's who he is. My friend. I grin even wider at this thought.

"Tomio, hey," I greet. Against my better judgement, I pull him into a hug. Daiki ambles up the steps and I embrace him, too.

"You two like the beach?" I ask.

"It's great!" Tomio says excitedly.

"Swimming is the best thing in the world." Daiki adds.

"You can say that again." I agree.

"Well, let's go swim!" Tomio says. I lead them to the beach. The two boys race towards the water. I strip off my clothes, revealing my swim suit, and dash after them. Tomio dives under the waves and dunks Daiki from behind. They both come up laughing. I smile at their friendliness. They can't humiliate one another because they're so friendly. I wonder if I can ever be that close to someone. Maybe I already am. That last thought makes me grin at myself.

"I admire your friendship," I comment. They share a glance and Daiki makes kissing noises at Tomio, who sticks his tongue out at his friend. I throw a smile over my shoulder as I wade further out into the ocean. The water climbs to my elbows and up to my shoulders when I finally stop. I turn towards the shore and wave to Tomio and Daiki, who are still standing up to their waists in the churning salt water.

"Akira," Tomio calls, "Aren't you out too far?"

"Nope," I yell back. It actually feels really nice. The current tugs gently around my body. The water is cool and the sun is hot on my face. Besides that, I'm blissfully alone. I push my feet off the sand and float on the water. My eyes close and I bask in the gentle heat of the sun on my face and the water on my back.

And then a wave hits me. Water rushes into my mouth and nose, coating the inside of my head with salt and sand. Surprised, I spit out the salty solution and right myself. I'm even more surprised when my feet don't hit the sandy ocean floor. I bob back up to the surface and frantically search for the beach. Another powerful wave crashes over my head. The water rushes into my nose and mouth, making my ears pop. The current pulls me along the rough sand. When I finally claw my way back to the surface, I'm coughing out water and my lungs are burning.

"Akira!" I hear my name faintly. I knock the side of my head violently. Under the water, I kick my legs, treading. My toes can't even brush the sand.

Another wave forces my head under the water. The current rolls me along the bottom. I scrape my elbows and knees against the grains. The water swirls down my throat and scratches the soft inside of my mouth. My lungs scream for air. It feels like a metal band is tightening around them. I open my mouth to cough, but more water slides down my throat. My thoughts slow, and despite my eyes being closed, flashes of color poke at my eyelids.

I get my weak feet under me and push against the sand. My knees buckle under me and my heart attempts to pound, but it's sluggish. I vaguely register I'm having a panic attack. I inhale before I realize I'm still underwater. My muscles burn for oxygen. I allow my arms and legs to go limp, to stop fighting.

The water picks me up and suspends me gently. My brain pounds against my skull. No more fighting.


	12. Secrets

The first thing I recognize are soft lips pressed against my own. I'm surprised for a moment, then the heat is gone, leaving me unable to inhale. Hands press on my chest, and a little water leaks over my cheek after every beat. It hurts. My chest aches with lack of oxygen. I shove the water from my lungs with a series of coughs, my feet scrabbling in the sand as I try to sit up.

I end up leaning back on my elbows, choking as I try to inhale. I finally get my breathing to a regular pace and open my eyes. A circle of girls surrounds me. They all wear matching looks of awe, jealousy, and concern. Kneeling closer to me is the host club and Tomio.

"What happened?" I ask no one in particular. My voice feels scratchy, and I can taste the salt in my mouth. I run my tongue along the inside of my mouth as Haruhi explains.  
"Tomio and Kyoya saved your life. You nearly drowned."

"Drowned?" The word barely registers in my muddled brain. I push myself up in a sitting position. "What happened?" I ask again.  
"You nearly drowned. Tomio brought you back to shore and Kyoya gave you CPR."

"Oh," I say distantly, remembering the pressure of his lips against mine. I feel my face get really hot. A couple girls around the circle giggle. I see a girl with long, flaming red hair blush nearly as hard as I do. I cast her an embarrassed half smile.

I am so suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. People I didn't know last month actually care enough to save my life. I hug each of my saviors in turn, whispering my gratitude into their ears. Tomio is the only one to hug me back, but that's okay. Kyoya said himself that he's my friend. Or maybe I imagined that part.

I stand shakily, sweeping the assembled crowd with my gaze. I see concern mixed with jealousy and relief. But what I don't see is horror. I mean, I just nearly drowned! I stopped breathing! Kyoya and Tomio saved my life! I nearly died. Died! So, I see concern, but I don't see horror. The horror I feel at what I did to myself. My fault. My life.  
"Akira?" Tomio says worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"Excuse me," I say, practically shoving my way through the circle of girls. The world seems to dip and turn around me as I make my way back inside. The true horror of what happened finally hits me. I nearly died and I'm only sixteen! There's so much I want to do. I want to go places and do things and make a name for myself. How could I do that when I'm dead?

I am lost once again. My family is rich but not so rich that I can get lost in my home. This house is not even the Ootori's primary house and I'm lost. Frustration swells inside me. I press my back against the cold wall and slide down. I cross my arms over my stomach and curl my legs closer to my body. My brain keeps replaying the way the water flowed down my throat and tore me along the sand. The salt scratches my throat and my lungs burn. My feet drift drift away from the sand, my lungs tighten and my heart pounds. Am I having a panic attack? I can't even tell.

"Hey, Akira, are you okay?"

"No," I say bitterly. "I just nearly drowned." I can't meet his eyes.

"But you didn't."

"Tamaki, you're not helping."

"Tamaki? Akira, look at me."

I finally do, and feel a slight blush forming on my cheeks. It's not Tamaki coming to my rescue this time. It's Tomio.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." Tomio sits himself down. He doesn't say anything, just sits close to me with one arm wrapped around my cold, wet, sandy shoulders. I didn't know how much I needed a friend like Tomio until I actually met him. No one from the host club would sit here and say nothing. They'd use their host club charm and make me feel embarrassed and worthless. Don't get me wrong, they're amazing friends. They're just not Tomio amazing. It's not that I'm saying one is better than the other. This just isn't a host moment.

"Tomio?" I break the silence. I'm suddenly so tired it's all I can do to keep my eyes open.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to go back to my room now." I feel him nod,then he withdraws him arm and stands. The pale haired boy offers me a hand up, and I take it. He must have misjudged my weight, because he yanks me up and I crash into his chest. Tomio staggers back a few steps and promptly runs into the opposite wall. His arms wrapped around my waist at one point, pinning me to him. I feel my breath hitch in my chest. The seconds pass slowly; I measure them with the beat of my heart. Tomio doesn't release me.

"Tomio?" I ask quietly, meeting his bright blue eyes. What I see is raw emotion churning on the surface of his face. Emotion for me.

And then I feel it. Because Tomio is kissing me. His lips press deeply into mine all at once, portraying so clearly how he feels. Why he saved me when I was drowning. Why he agreed to come to my debut. Why he came every day since. Why he tries to make me smile, why I can't die. Because Tomio loves me.

"I apologize for ruining the moment, but I am here to return Akira's clothes." His voice is cold, flashing with anger and resentment. Tomio breaks away and is gone in a flash, leaving me on the verge of a slight panic attack. I look at the slate gray eyes of the weekend's trip's host. They're cold with jealousy and hot with burning anger. I remember the soft press of his lips on mine and blush red hot.

"Thanks, Kyoya," I take my bundle of clothes.

"Oh, Akira?" Kyoya says, surprising me. His stony voice holds no emotion. I feel my fluttering heart sink a little.

"Yeah?"

"I hope you know that hosts aren't allowed to have ongoing romantic relationships."

"What? Why?" My voice is shriller, more worried than I expected.

"We're hosts. If any of our guests got jealous and stopped coming, we're out a lot of money." He smirks. Anger bubbles inside me, growing in intensity until my whole body shakes and my skin burns.

"Is it all about money with you? You're allowed to have feelings you know," I say coldly. My reaction must surprise him. He does a double take, not composed for half a second before he calmly pushes his glasses up on his nose.

"I don't follow."

"I've always been honest with you. Can you not return the favor?" His shoulders sags. He knows I'm right. Inspired, I continue. "You're always so composed. Just tell me what's bothering you. I appreciate the heads up, but I didn't plan on furthering my relationship with Tomio. That's my part. Now spill."

His eyes widen. He knows I know something. Have I finally worn the Shadow King down? Is he finally going to treat me like a friend and not just a coworker? I take a step closer to him, and another, and another, until I'm standing close enough to touch him.

"I think," he finally says, "That you already know my secrets." His voice is warm and familiar and full of hidden meaning. He reaches up and brushes a strand of my dark hair off my cheek. His fingers leave trails of heat where they brush my cold skin.

I think Kyoya's right. Smiling at him, I tilt my chin up and whisper his own secret to him. My breath teases the hair tucked behind his ear.

"You're jealous of Tomio, aren't you?" I feel the corner of his mouth turn up.

 **I forgot to say that I don't own Ouran. That's fairly obvious though.**

 **Shoutout to my best friend (who doesn't have an account here) for inspiring my AkiraxKyoya. I'm going to have a lot of fun with the next chapter...**


	13. Trauma

My body is cold and shaking. My lungs are tightening, my muscles weakening, my body suspended in icy water. Color dances before my eyes. I taste the salt in the water. I am being swirled around, rolled across the sand. I try to move up towards the light. It's inches away. I open my mouth to call out to someone, anyone, grab my hand and save me. My fingers break the surface. I try to pull my face out, but no matter how far I get, another wave crashes over my head. No breath, no air. I call out his name, over and over. Stop fighting.

"Kyoya!" I scream, bolting upright in bed. So, it's Kyoya I was calling for in my nightmare. My blanket is tangled around my legs. My skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. My hair is plastered to my forehead. I rub my eyes and prop myself on the wall. I jump and hit my head when my door bursts open.

"Akira?" He asks in his cool, smooth voice. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, Kyoya. I'm sorry I woke you. I had a nightmare."

"Oh." The Shadow King says, adjusting his lopsided glasses on his nose. He composes himself and withdraws back out the door. "I'm sorry for bursting in here. I'll be going now."

"Wait!" I call before he can shut the door and before I can think. I blush hard. I try to force the words out of my mouth, but I mangle them. "C-can you staywithme?" I slur, embarrassed. Kyoya stops with one hand resting on the doorknob, turns and gives me a gentle smile. The sight of his smile makes my heart flutter. Kyoya glides over to the bed and seats himself on the edge of it. I cross my legs and lean against the wall.

"Thank you for saving me, Kyoya."

"Of course," the cool host says, his back to me. I am suddenly aware that he's wearing only flannel pajama bottoms and I am only in a shirt that reaches halfway down my thighs. I self consciously pull my blanket further up around my stomach.

"How can I repay you?" I ask. You may say I'm a jerk, insane, or selfish, but I can't stand debt. Kyoya gets this look on his face, something close to regret, then I can see an idea spark in his mind. He says calmly, as if discussing the weather, his wishes.

"You can pay me back with your body."

"Excuse me?" I ask, startled by his outburst. "You-you mean..." I raise my eyebrows and give him a pointed look. Heat pounds my cheeks and I am suddenly glad it's so dark in here.

"Yes." He says simply. He places his glasses on the nightstand and leans over where I am still propped against the wall.

"K-Kyoya, why?"

"You said you wanted to repay me."

"Not like this!"

"Do you have a better idea?" he asks me. His beautiful face is inches from mine. I feel his breath warming my forehead.

"I-I could c-c-come up with one," I say weakly. His lips brush my temple. I try to push his face away, but he catches my hand and pins it against the wall. "Stop, Ky-Kyoya, please," I beg. I try to pry my hand away but he's too strong. My other arm is trapped between my back and the wall, and Kyoya's torso is pinning down mine. I could kick him, but I don't want to hurt him, no matter what he's doing. He's still my friend.

I hear the door creak open. Footsteps shuffle into the room. Then, to my utter relief, the light switches on. Honey stands in the doorway, hugging Usa-chan with one arm and rubbing his wide eyes with the other.

"Kyo-chan? Aki-chan? I heard you scream. Is everything alright?" His voice is sweet as, well, honey. Kyoya withdraws to resume his position on the edge of the bed. I sigh.

"Yeah, Honey. I'm fine now. Thanks."

"Excuse me, but I'll be going now." Kyoya says, rising. He gives me an over the shoulder look that says 'Nothing leaves this room'. I glare back at him. I'm not planning on holding his actions against him, but it's hard not to be a little angry. I trusted him and he went and did... that.

"Mitskuni!" A deep voice says. Mori, hair messed up from bed, comes bursting into the room. I smile at him as he turns to Honey.

"I'm fine, Takashi. Akira had a bad dream, but she's okay now."

"Mhm," Mori grunts, pulling Honey on to his shoulders. They turn back towards the door and nearly run in to Haruhi.

"What's going on in here?" She asks, annoyed. I explain about my dream, pointedly leaving out Kyoya's temporary breach of etiquette.

"Why is everyone in here?" Hikaru says, marching through the door, Kaoru wrapped around his shoulders, still half asleep.

"Oh! Let's see who'll come next! Like a game!" Honey chants. Haruhi rolls her eyes and I groan, tossing the blanket over my head and falling back on to the mattress.

"A game? In the middle of the night? What kind of game?" Tamaki's voice says. So much for sleep.

"We're not playing a game." Kaoru says.

"Then, I propose... hmm... truth or dare!" Tamaki says triumphantly.

"No," I mutter at the same time Honey and Hikaru agree loudly.

"Come on, Akira, it'll be fun!" Tamaki whines. I feel him bouncing on the edge of the bed.  
"No!" I protest more earnestly.

"Please?" Hikaru says, tugging at my blanket.

"Leave her alone. That idea is dumb anyway," Haruhi agrees with me.

"Let's play!" Hikaru ignores her. He whips the covers off my bed. I blush red hot when I remember I'm only wearing my nightshirt. I sit up, pulling the hem down as to keep a little of my dignity left.

"Fine, as long as you leave me alone afterwards. Oh, and a fair warning," I say with a sly grin. "I play big or not at all."

"Just how we like it," the twins say in unison.


	14. Midnight Games

**I know the title is kind of suggestive, but the rating is still T! Don't pass up this chapter just because the title makes it sound... xD**

I rumage through my suitcase, which sits open on the floor, and explain my version of truth or dare to the club. I pull out a pair of yoga pants and turn to face them.  
"So," I begin, pulling the pants on under my shirt, "no skipping. All questions and dares are final." I grin at the boys and take my place among the circle. My gaze is met with looks of surprise, awe, and excitement. Hikaru and Kaoru give one another an evil smile, Honey grins cutely, Mori's face is stony as ever, Haruhi seems slightly annoyed, and Tamaki's eyes are wide as a child with a new toy. I find myself beaming with joy. I've never played games like this with anyone but my sister and my maids as a kid. I'd never really has anyone else to play with.  
"Who starts?" Tamaki asks.  
"You, boss." Kaoru says.  
"Yeah, it was your idea." Hikaru explains.  
"Very well," Tamaki ponders. "Honey, truth or dare?"  
"Truth!" The small boy singsongs. I tell with one glance that Tamaki is going to take this seriously. He gets up and inspects Honey, tilting his head from side to side, running Honey's blonde hair through his long fingers, holding the boy's arms out to the side. Finally, after a very intense and awkward scrutiny, he gasps.  
"Honey, sempai, is your hair naturally blonde?"  
The small boy's eyes widen to an almost frightening diameter. "Nope!" He says after half a second, back to his normal chipper attitude.  
"I knew it!" Tamaki says accusingly.  
"Wait, then what's-" Kaoru starts.  
"-Your real hair color?" Hikaru finishes. I look at Honey out of the corner of my eye.  
"Black, like Takashi."  
"Really?" I blurt out. "Why did you change it?"  
"It's just cuter this way!" He explains with a smile that warms my heart. I smile back at him.  
"Okay then, Honey, it's your turn." Tamaki says.  
"Aki-chan!"  
"Uh," I say stupidly, surprised. "Dare?" It's the first thing that pops into my mind and I instantly regret it.  
"Eat some cake with me!" I let out a sigh of relief as I remember who I'm dealing with. A couple slices of cake are brought up and I take my second bite as Honey finishes his whole piece. I put the plate on the floor and stretch out on my stomach. Through a mouthful of the sweet chocolate dessert, I continue the game.  
"Kaoru," I say, pointing with my fork at the twin who's lounging against his brother's shoulder, "truth or dare?"  
"Dare," he says with a challenging smile. I sort of hoped he'd pick truth because I have a question that I've never been brave enough to ask. So I just rephrase the dare.  
"I dare you to tell me whether or not your whole brotherly love thing is an act." I can feel the tension in the room. The whole club leans closer to the twins, who wear matching looks of amazement and are gazing at one another. Kaoru looks ready to crawl into a hole and disappear, and Hikaru seems conflicted on whether to laugh or be equally as embarrassed. I have to wonder though: are they embarrassed for one another or themselves?  
"Well, um..." Kaoru begins, voice cutting through the tension. Hikaru gives him a look, but Kaoru continues. "Sometimes."  
"Oh," I draw out the word, smiling at the twins' matching blushes. Hikaru throws his arm around Kaoru and the latter rests his head on his twin's shoulder. I kick my bare feet in the air, already loving this game. Hikaru whispers something in Kaoru's ear, and the younger twin grins.  
"Haruhi, truth or dare?" Kaoru asks. Haruhi groans.  
"Truth. You guys are not ordering me around."  
"Aw..." he drawls, thinking. His eyes light up and he glances at his twin. They both grin and ask in unison, "Who in the whole host club would you date?"  
"How about..." she brings her knees up to her chest. The whole club holds their breath. "No one." Haruhi finally says.  
"You have to pick!" Tamaki whines. I take another bite of my remaining cake.  
"If I had to pick, It would probably be Kyoya-senpai," she says thoughtfully. My stomach tightens and I choke on my cake. Tamaki gasps, wails, and retreats into a corner. I try not to look at any of the hosts by taking up the last sliver of my cake and leaving the room.  
"Where are you going, Aki-chan?" Honey asks.  
"Cleaning up," I mumble. As soon as I'm out of sight, I race down to the kitchen and drop off my plate. Then, refusing to go back to that dangerous game, I wander into the dining room. My bare feet are cold on the tiles and the sound of the door closing echoes through the large room. I pull a chair out and lower myself slowly into it. I sigh and cross my legs, propping my knees on the arms of the chair.  
My thoughts drift back to Kyoya, no matter how many times I try to force them away. His onyx eyes full of all-knowing mischief, his ebony hair in stark contrast with his pale skin, his glasses reflecting light and obscuring his eyes. Then, I remember the feel of his hands on mine, his lips pressing against my cold skin, saving me, and as of a few minutes ago, alone in my room. I can't help but blush, but I also feel an unwelcome blossom of anger. I stare at my bare feet, soaking in the silence of the empty room. I find myself muttering my poem under my breath. The words fly through my lips and into the vast space beyond, offering a comforting warmth.  
"I don't mind you being in here, but could you please keep it down?"  
My heart skips a beat and I nearly fall out of my chair. I didn't notice him. I'd assumed he'd gone back to wherever his room is to sleep.  
"Sorry, I didn't see you. Do you ever sleep?"  
"Of course."  
"It was a rhetorical question," I mutter.  
"I know," Kyoya retorts.  
"For the record," I say after a short pause, "I'm not planning on holding what you did against you. We're still friends. Just don't think you can do it again." I slide my eyes up to meet his. He doesn't look sorry or guilty, just surprised. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and break eye contact just as his cell phone rings.  
"Hello? Tamaki? Yes. As long as you're paying. Okay." He hangs up and glances at me. I cock my head to the side and raise an eyebrow at him questioningly. Kyoya only smiles at me.

 **Shoutout to PandaCracker for her inspirational ideas (like... all of the questions...).**


	15. Talk of the Town

"Ha-ru-hi!"

I can imagine Tamaki dancing into the room with those words. Haruhi groans.

"Haruhi! Guess what! We're going to cheer Akira up today! I looked it up and I think we should take her to a party. The guests will love it and she's never been to an official Host celebration. We could celebrate autumn!"

"I think Akira would like the experience, but, senpai, what if she can't talk to anyone?" I can hear the surprise in her voice. She obviously wasn't expecting this.

"Aki-chan will be fine. She talks to the guests a lot." Honey says.

I slide my socks over my feet, smiling to myself. They don't know I'm in the dressing room, changing back into my uniform. I gather up my shoes and dangle them by the straps from my fingers, sliding the curtain open. I can't help being touched that they'd go through all the trouble of planning a party just to cheer me up. Haruhi has a point though. I probably won't be able to talk to anyone and I know for a fact I can't dance. Not like I'll ever admit that.

"I'm flattered, Tamaki, really. But, uh, no," I say, appearing in the doorway. Tamaki turns to me. If he's surprised by the fact that I was listening, he doesn't show it. "I don't need to be cheered up," I explain to his blank stare.

"Oh, Akira! You needn't be embarrassed. Drowning can't be a pleasurable experience," he slides me a carefree smile, which raises a blush to my skin. Then, I shiver as I feel the coldness creep over my skin, rising quickly over my nose and mouth, my lungs constricting, the sand grinding against my tender flesh. My legs weaken and I feel myself wobble, gasping for breath. My heart squeezes and I gasp again, vaguely recognizing the effects of a panic attack.

Then warm fingers are tracing down my arms, saying my name gently. The water disappears, the light invades, and I'm back in the music room, leaning against a wall to keep myself on my feet. I am surprised to see Kyoya, his exotic features laced with concern. I find myself transfixed by his steel gray gaze, by the warmth of his fingers. It takes me about half a second to realize my face is throbbing with heat. I glance past his shoulder and realize the rest of the host club is staring openly. I let out a timid squeak of surprise and quickly brush him away.

"Uh, n-no party," I say quickly.

"Why not?" Tamaki whines.

"Haruhi's right," I lie, "I won't be able to talk to anyone." It's not that I don't think I'll be able to. I'll have the club to save me if I get too stuck. But, well, now that I think about it, no one said I had to dance. I bow my head and give the club a sigh as if I've given in. "Fine. Throw your party."

"Yay!" Honey squeals. The twins give one another a look. I can't help feeling a blossom of excitement well up inside me. My first party.


	16. Many More Firsts

**...**

 **I have no excuse for why I was gone so long. At least, not one that'll hold any water with the fangirl mob (that I happen to have a lot of inside sources about...)**

The hosts' party starts in an hour, but I have to be there early for setup. I rush to the room directly after class, my excitement, to my reluctance, piling up inside me. I release the energy by running. I only stumble a few times in the heels, something I call a crowning achievement. I have my change of clothes in my bag (I'm sure as hell not wearing my uniform to my first official party) and my fantasies swirling in my head, crashing against one another to the point I can't decide which one I'd like most.

I almost crash into the door when I reach it. I fumble with the handle and click it open, almost falling into the room. The whole club is already there, scattered about the grand room. This room could very well be the most beautiful in the school, this taking into consideration the sparkling, immaculate, polished beauty of the whole campus. And, complimenting the perfection famously, is the host club.

They all wear perfectly pressed suits that make me just know they're rich. Each one wears a different color flower pinned to their lapel. I quickly get over the sight and blush. Hard.

"Wait. This is a formal?" I say very dumbly.

"Well, yeah. What did you expect?" Hikaru asks like I'm an idiot.

"Honestly, I had no idea," I say, hefting my bag over my shoulder and staring at my toes.

"Good."

"Good?" I mimic, surprised.

"Yeah. We planned for this, you know." I raise an eyebrow as a large paper bag is shoved my way. I balance my bag on my shoulder and take the paper one with both hands, still too surprised to ask questions. Silent, I pace off to the changing room and slip into the contents.

It's absolutely beautiful. It's a very pale, shimmering green that sets off the deeper green of my eyes. The silken bodice wraps around my chest and disappears over my left shoulder. The skirt flares gracefully down to my knees. The whole dress shimmers and almost glows on my pale complexion. I twirl around, satisfied, and am pleased to see the skirt flare out and twist around my legs. I am putting my uniform into the paper bag for safekeeping when I notice a pair of shoes. They're shining and brushed with golden color, and I sigh with relief when I see that they're flats. I slip them on and replace them with my previously worn shoes.

"Where did you guys get this?" I ask, stepping out of the room. I mainly asked that question to avoid an awkward silence where I pretend to be embarrassed that they're all staring at me.

"We made it," Kaoru explains.

"Really?" I ask, awed. "You guys have talent."

"It's still missing something," Tamaki interjects. He steps forward, holding out a crisp yellow rose that's just unfurling from a bud. I take it, careful not to crush the delicate flower. An idea forming in my head, I rush back to the mirror in the changing room and take a couple strands of hair from one side of my face. I braid them back carefully and clip it to my head. Then, I thread the flower through the braid. Satisfied, step again from the dressing room and smile.

-(Fifty Minute Time Skip)-

I take my place on the enormously grand staircase folding my hands behind my back and leaning backwards on my heels. My gaze skitters like a frightened bug to each of the hosts in turn. Every one of the young men is absolutely gorgeous. I am suddenly reminded of when I first met them, seeing them from the way my head was tilted, Tamaki spinning me into the room, Haruhi's friendly conversation, the little amounts of comfort the twins offered. And Kyoya. Silent, smart, distant, cold, calculating Kyoya. What a mystery he was back then, so horrifyingly distant. But, now that I think about it, I also clearly recall thinking that I'd have been able to get along with him. I feel a blush forming as I think about who he is to me now. At the beach in Okinawa, how his lips pressed against mine and the warmth of his skin and the way my name sounds on his tongue. I find myself looking at where he stands by the doors, talking to Tamaki and waiting to open them and let the guests in.

I tug on the ends of my hair thoughtfully. My thoughts, against my will, turn towards this silly party. I was pretty much against it because I can't dance. That surprised me at first. At the beginning of the year, I never would have thought I could make myself do something so crazy. But now, standing here in this dress that was literally made for me, at the top of a grand staircase with actual friends here to help me, something is changing. It doesn't feel insane at all. It feels right. It feels like I belong here next to the hosts, like I'm a princess, like everyone knows I am. I know that I'll never really be comfortable in a social situation, but I know now that as long as my friends are by my side, I'll be okay.

Suddenly, a movement makes me shake the cobwebs from my head and turn towards the door. Tamaki and Kyoya are poised with their hands on the handles, their best smiles plastered on their faces. I sweep my gaze towards my feet and look up through my eyelashes. The boys swing open the doors with equal grace, revealing a very large crowd of brightly dressed girls. As they file in and Tamaki and Kyoya are lost to my vision, I even notice a few tuxedos among the pastel colors. I recognize Daiki's mud brown hair and even the top of Tomio's pale head. I can't help but blush at him as he catches my eye. Daiki nudges him and they exchange a whisper, then Daiki laughs and the two move on.

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime of standing but probably can't be more than a few minutes, Tamaki and Kyoya climb the stairs and address the gathered guests.

"Welcome, ladies... and gentlemen," Tamaki says the last part almost hesitantly, not at all like him,"we welcome you. Remember that tonight is primarily for your entertainment, as is the Host Club. As last time, the best dancer will receive a kiss on the cheek from our Host King, and Akira will stand in if that lucky student happens to be a boy."

I drop my shoulders as I feel a red-hot, skin burning blush race up my neck. Whispers go around the room and I know that my face is visibly red. I scan the crowd, looking for any sign of support, and my eyes land on Tomio and Daiki. The latter puckers his lips at me, while Tomio elbows hm in the side and looks away, face nearly as red as I imagine mine is. Groaning silently, I cover my face with my hands as Tamaki continues his mini speech.

"Again, we ask that you enjoy yourself on this fine evening. Good luck," he adds with a wink that makes a couple girls gasp. Then, he descends the staircase, followed by the other hosts. On wobbly knees, I force myself to move after them. My fleeting confidence is gone, replaced with constricting lungs and a heart running a mile a minute. My fingers tingle and I wrap them in my hair to keep them from shaking. I reach the end of the staircase and step on the the tiled floor. Quickly, the hosts disappear to their guests, immediately immersed in their work. I stand, awkward, ankles pressed against the ledge of the last stair, eyes scanning the already swirling crowd.

"Akira!" I hear, and turn my head eagerly to the sound of my voice. Daiki breaks through the thinning crowd. His suit jacket's sleeves are pushed up to the elbows, his hair rumpled and his bow tie resting crooked on his collarbone. He drags a very red Tomio behind him, who looks a lot more put together.

"Hey, guys," I greet. "Daiki, what happened to your suit?"

"I look fine."

"I can tell," I say with a mockingly flirtatious wink. "Tomio, uh, hi..." I trail off, remembering our encounter in the hallway in Okinawa. I feel a hot blush spread over my face at the memory. This is the first time we've met since. I knew this first meeting would be awkward, but I was excited to see him again. After everything, he's still my friend.

"Okay," Daiki splits the uncomfortable silence, looking between both of us, "What happened between you two?" I'm surprised. I thought Tomio would have told him. Well, if he didn't, he obviously doesn't want Daiki to know.

"Nothing," Tomio and I say, probably a little too quickly.

"Alright, fine. Don't tell me. Anyway, this is a party, and we're your guests." Daiki says, releasing Tomio and smiling widely at me. "May I have this dance, Lady Akira?"

"Please don't call me that," I mutter, allowing my hair to fall over my beet red face. I take his outstretched hand anyway, and am led to the edge of the dance floor. Daiki faces me and grabs my other hand, twirling me around hastily. I let out a surprised squeak and nearly stumble.

"Look, Akira. You've got to tell me what happened." Daiki's eyes bore holes into my head with the seriousness. He's obviously concerned. I'm so used to seeing Daiki smiling widely and carefree and joking with Tomio. Now, something happened and I have no idea what.

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me what happened in Okinawa. Tomio's been acting strange and I'm worried about him. He hasn't talked to me a lot since."

"Fine," I say, looking at our perfunctory feet taking the smallest of steps, back and forth, back and forth. "Tomio, he, uh... he kind of kissed me." Daiki stops moving. I can feel him staring openly at me, something close to awe. His hands retract from mine and I finally meet his gaze.

"That's... that's so... wow." Daiki breathes. I cock my head at him, ignoring the blush I know is visible.

"What? You don't think I'm kissable?" I ask it almost sadly, not at all how sarcastic I wanted to sound.

"No, no. You're plenty cute. It's just, uh..."

"What, Daiki?" He brunette boy leans close to my ear and whispers, "Akira, Tomio doesn't swing that way."

He retracts, and it takes me a moment of stupid confusion to register his words. I gasp and try to stifle the sound with my hand. Glancing at Tomio, who is leaning against the wall, I look at Daiki for confirmation.

"You mean, he's gay?"

 **If you couldn't tell, I was stuck for an ending. You'd think I'd be able to come up with something better in the amount of time I was goofing off...**

 **XD**

 **But really though. Sorry if I offended any gay people, it was not intentional.**

 **If anyone's reading this (echo of emptiness in the reviews section)... Yep. Please R &R!**


	17. Mini 1 - The Mysteries of Music

**So, I had this idea a while ago for these cute little one-shots. They're just sort of funny and/or fluffy moments with Akira interacting with the club. They usually won't pertain to the plot (those are called chapters).**

It's quiet. The only sounds are Kyoya's typing rapidly in the corner, the occasional soft rustle of Haruhi's book page turning, and the rhythmic tapping of my foot on the tile floor. I'd kicked off my shoes not long ago, so the sound can only be heard by me. The quiet is peaceful, not awkward. This is a new experience for me, because I've never been close enough to anyone to stay quiet for so long and feel comfortable. There's no need for me to try to fill this silence. Not that I think I'd be able to actually think of something to talk about if it was awkward.

The door clicks open, the sound reverberating around the room. I jump with surprise as music follows immediately after. Haruhi sighs loudly, Kyoya completely ignores it, and I whip my head around. Hikaru and Kaoru stride into the room, the music blasting from one of their phone's speakers. The beat is nice, and they sing along under their breath.

Then follows Tamaki, tapping his fingers against his hip. I rise, my feet cold against the tile floor.

"What are you guys doing?" I ask. Both twins turn to face me, flushed with excitement.

"Just listening to our favorite song," Hikaru states. I tilt my head as the music fades out and restarts. He seemingly teleports to my side, his brother on my other. They each grab one of my elbows, spinning me around to the lyrics.

"Hey!" I protest, but to no avail as the spinning continues.

After a few seconds, I find myself laughing in joy and moving my feet willingly. The music has almost a trace over me. For a few rotations, the twins release me and converge once again, in and out in an elaborate, random, friendly pattern. They're back in, each on grabbing one of my hands and clasping theirs together, so we form a small circle.

"Leave Akira alone, you two," I hear Haruhi faintly over the music. The Hitachiins laugh almost cruelly at her feeble protest.

Finally, after yet another round of the song, the music room is spinning and the floor roiling in waves underneath me. My classmates release me, and, surprised and dizzy, I collapse to my knees. My torturers laugh above me. It's good natured laughter though, so I decide to join them.

"What is this song called?" I ask, sitting back on my knees.

"It's, uh..." They look between one another. "Let me check." Kaoru whips out his phone and scrolls his thumb over the buttons. He glances at it. The lyrics cycle into the chorus.

 _Kiss, kiss, fall in love!_

"It just says Theme Song."

"Really?" I question. He turns the screen towards me and, sure enough, a song entitled Theme Song is playing.

"Weird," I trail off. "Although, it does seem familiar..."


	18. Flames Half Contained

The world almost swirls around me. The betrayal. My first kiss wasn't real. Or, it could have been, but... Oh, gosh. I need to talk to Tomio. I brush past Daiki and make my way through the crowd, muttering random apologetic words when I knock in to a second year swaying with Mori.

"Tomio!" I have to remind myself not to yell. No need to draw extra attention to myself.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Hey, Akira."

"You didn't tell me you're gay?" Tomio jumps and looks me in the eye. He glances over my shoulder, his icy blue eyes filled with anger.

"No," he says bitterly. "It's not your business."

"Of course it is! We're friends and... and..." I take a deep breath and force myself to continue. "You kissed me in Okinawa. Don't I have the right to know that my first kiss probably wasn't even real?"

"Wasn't real?" He pushes himself off the wall. "It was real.." he says quietly. "It was real for you. I thought... I thought you wanted me to... and Daiki just found out that I have feelings for him. I had to prove," he takes a shaky breath and drops his gaze to the floor. "I had something to prove. I'm sorry."

My heart melts at his confession, and I can't stop myself from pulling the boy into an embrace. Suddenly, my anger is gone and there's only Tomio, my friend. Tomio, the boy who was so desperate that he'd risk his friendship with me to prove something. What that is, I can't say. But if our friendship is half as important to him as it is to me, he's really brave.

"I understand," I say. A second of silence, and Daiki is there, an arm around each of us.

"You two," he says, ignoring the tension, "have to dance."

"No," I protest plainly. "I can't!"

"You danced with me."

"Only because she knew you're completely incompetent," Tomio counters. Daiki slaps him playfully on the back of his pale haired head and pushes us gently towards the floor. Tomio rolls his eyes at Daiki, who flashes a thumbs up at him.

"Let's just do it," I say to Tomio. "Who knows? You may even be the winner." Scoffing but smiling, Tomio takes my hand and puts his other on my waist. He moves his feet, and that's when I remember once again that I can't dance. I look at my feet, matching how Tomio's move. Back, forward, left, right, repeat. Just sway. Turn slowly. This is easy. Ballroom dancing isn't as hard as I thought. I smile at Tomio, sharing this small revelation with him. He grins back at me.

With the smile, something swells inside me. I know I was wrong about him loving me. Well, of course Tomio loves me, but as a friend. I almost kick myself for taking that long to realize it.

"You're a good dancer," Tomio complements.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," I counter with a light blush.

"Yes you do." I laugh at this comment, but the boy looks completely serious. I quirk a dark eyebrow at his expression.

"What?" Tomio asks me.

"Nothing..." I drawl, not knowing exactly what to say. Tomio releases me with the final note to the song, bowing comically.

Suddenly, Daiki is there, one arm hanging over Tomio's shoulder and his face plastered with his trademark grin. In both hands he holds a dainty cup of red fruit punch. His muddy eyes are foggy, almost glassy, and his words slightly slurred but not enough to be noticeable.

"You guys have got to try this punch!" He thrusts a cup into Tomio's shoulder and the other towards me. I take a cup hesitantly, my eyes on Daiki.

"Daiki, are you okay?" Tomio asks.

"Try the punch!" The boy insists again, practically strangling Tomio from behind. I lift the cup to my lips and take a hesitant sip. The liquid is sweet, but it burns with an almost medical tang. I wipe my tongue over the roof of my mouth, tasting exactly what I thought.

"Is this alcohol?" I ask.

"Why would they serve alcohol at a school event?" Tomio ponders, icy eyes staring at his drink.

"I don't think Tamaki knows about this. He'd never allow it," I say, taking another tiny sip of the punch. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it just a little.

"You think someone spiked it?" Tomio asks. Daiki giggles maniacally in his ear, shoving his face in Tomio's shoulder. I notice Tomio's breath hitch, but he's otherwise unresponsive to Daiki.

"I'll go tell Tamaki," I say importantly, threading my way through the crowd. I quickly find Tamaki surrounded by a gaggle of four girls, tilting one of their faces upward to meet his eyes closely, the other three squealing uncontrollably.

"Oh, hello, Akira," Tamaki says in his silken Host Club King voice. Obviously caught up in his role, he sweeps me into a shallow dip, a steadying hand at my waist. I only manage to spill a little of the punch.

"T-Tamaki, there's a problem," I stutter through a heated blush. Tamaki's eyes sober. I instantly feel bad. Tamaki has the right to live in his own fantasy and I dont want to separate him from that. Now's not the time though.

"What is it?" He sets me steadily back on my feet. I hand him the punch.

"Take a sip."

He does. Too big of one. The blonde spits the burning liquid back into the cup, wincing with surprise. His mouth forms a small O as the pieces fall into place.

"We will have to cancel the party early," he states dramatically. "We cannot allow anyone to become intoxicated under our care and continuing a party without refreshments is disgraceful!"

"Too bad," I say, honestly disappointed. "I was looking forward to a dance with you." I wink at him mockingly, already turning away.

Five minutes later, Tamaki had made an announcement that requested everyone go home early. With a record amount of protest (that being none at all) every guest left, and the club and I are left alone in the grand ballroom.

"How tragic," Tamaki moans, "That all our hard work and money was wasted by a bad fruit punch!"

"Is that what it was?" Hikaru asks.

"Yeah. Someone spiked it," I input, specifically leaving out the fact that Daiki got a little bit drunk and Tomio's probably having a hard time controlling himself right now. I blush pink at the thought, and I try to wipe it from my mind. Tamaki would probably have a heart attack if he found out that someone got "intoxicated under our care".

"Oh, yes. I almost forgot," Kyoya interjects, smooth voice making my heart skip a beat. "We have much to discuss at our meeting tomorrow afternoon." He smiles ruthlessly. I shudder. That's never a good sign. Either someone is going to get hurt or embarrassed, or they already are and don't know it yet.

 **I'm sorry if I offended anyone with my inexperience interacting with gay people. I don't have friends (XD) and I only know how cliché homosexuals act. But, hey! Tomio is perfect in his own way 3**

 **Side note: I honestly never intended to go this far with Tomio and Daiki. They were supposed to be there for a few chapters as Akira's guests, but oh well! I can't tear them away now.**

 **Please, if anyone is out there reading this -cricket noises- please review! I love it so much! If you hate Akira's story, tell me! If you want more, please say so! If you have a suggestion, if you want a character to do something stupid (my sister suggested drunk Daiki), if you want to me to into any pairings, want a cameo from your favorite animes (I'm planning** ** _Black Butler_** **and** ** _Free! Eternal Summer_** **ones), or anything else (Please note that I don't do lemons/lime or cherries or anything erotic like that except maybe some hot kissing. My bestie said she's break my computer if I ever did) please just review!**

 **This is long...**


	19. A Few Lines of a Poem

I couldn't stand to change out of the dress and back into my normal clothing. I decide to take the last turn in the dressing room to buy myself a little more time with the beautiful garment. Alas, my turn comes, and I am forced to put on my change of clothes; pale jeans that barely cling to my hips and a tight fitting tank top that comes up a little on my stomach when I stretch. Both these items of clothing should have been thrown out long ago, but I honestly don't care much for clothes shopping. My mother always tries to buy me and my sister the most ridiculous stuff conceivable.

I attempt to fold the gorgeous dress neatly to avoid wrinkling it, take the bag up in my hands, and join the boys at the large table, my bare feet almost silent on the cold tile. I hate shoes. Any shoes, all shoes, especially high heels. I much prefer the liberating sensation of my bare skin against whatever surface I happen to be walking on.

"What do you have to tell us, Kyo-chan?" Honey asks after I'd plopped myself down in the chair.

"Before I begin," Kyoya starts, sliding his notebook closed and placing it off to the side, "I would ask that you all listen before jumping to conclusions."

"Senpai, stop being creepy and just get on with it," Haruhi interjects quite rudely. I glance at her and notice a rolling of her eyes. She must be in a bad mood today, for whatever reason. Then again, when is Haruhi not in a bad mood?

"I was thinking of starting a girls' division of the club," Kyoya says to a gasp from Tamaki, that is quickly quieted by the Shadow King's icy glare. "The girls' division would work alongside the Host Club."

"That's an awful idea, Kyoya!" Tamaki bursts from his chair, anger encompassing his smooth voice. "Haruhi and Akira couldn't possibly run their own club! They're girls!"

"Sex doesn't have anything to do with this being a bad idea, senpai." Haruhi says bitterly, with a pointed glance at me.

I'm not sure how I feel on the topic. Sure, it could be a good idea. There would be more customers, of course, but... I definitely couldn't be one of only two hosts. The proposition makes my legs weak and my lungs constrict a little. I gulp in a breath and rest my head in my hands, feeling a headache coming on. I guess I just now realized that the club has become less of something to prove to my mother and more of something to prove to myself. I've come a really long way, but without the boys and, I gasp, Kyoya, what the hell am I supposed to do?

"Is Aki-chan okay?" I hear Honey ask through the rushing in my ears. His lilting voice sounds muted, like I have cotton balls in my ears. My headache pounds and a bad taste coats my tongue. I'm glad I'm sitting down because I probably would have fallen over already if I was standing.

"What's happening?" Someone, probably Kaoru, asks.

"She's having a panic attack," Tamaki says.

"Why?" Honey this time.

"I- I don't know."

"Should we do something?"

I want to scream at them to shut up, just shut up! Your hesitance is making it worse. It's scary. I haven't had an attack this bad since I'd joined the club. My heart pounds, screaming to me, my lungs constrict, forcing me to fight for air. My palms are slick in my hair, where I'd tangled them to keep them from shaking. My nose is buried in the crook of my arm, a very ineffective position if, say, you're trying desperately to gasp for air. I bite the soft inside of my arm tightly, wincing at but ignoring the pain. Finally, after what seems like days but couldn't be more than a few seconds, I have to turn my head out and gasp for air. Drops of blood cling to my lip where I'd bitten just a little too hard. I realize vaguely that I must look insane.

But whoever is talking to me obviously doesn't care.

His voice cuts through my swirling, confused thoughts like a knife. A knife of ice, calming my fiery, traitorous brain.

"As of with agile flesh and cunning leers/They seek to multiply my fears/But I whirl my blade with a swish and hiss/Because I've been there and I've done this./I've seen the sand that hides the stains/I've seen the corpses bound with chains/I've seen the demon lord called hob/I've heard the falling virgins sob/And I know the pit where his mother lies/Smelled the blood heard the drone of flies/Seen the vultures haunt the skies/And I know this dance, I know it's pattern well/Even better than the path to Hell/So I lift my blade and lick my lips/Until six eyes pop like orange pips/And I shuffle left and I shuffle right/And strike a blow with all my might/And through helmet, hauberk, shield and breast/My blade, it cuts from east to west/Faster than a falcon stoops to prey/My blade it cuts that fiend away./'O boastful lord of this ancient tree/What a fool you were to mess with me/For even in death I am bound to win/Despite my darkest secret sin." He whispers the words in my ear, his breath tickling my skin, his arms strong like an anchor wrapping around my shoulders to stop the shudders coursing my body. The familiar words woven by a familiar voice soothes me slowly, painfully slowly.

It's finally quiet. No one makes a sound. I can still hear him breathing behind me, can still feel his warmth leaning over the back of my chair. Then he retracts his arms and I turn in my seat to face him.

Onyx eyes behind thin framed glasses shine down at me. The only thing I can think to say is,

"You remembered the poem?"

"Yes," Kyoya says.

"Th- thank you."

"No problem," he says. After another awkward second, he brushes a strand of hair from my face, and casually sits back down to resume the meeting. I hide a blush spreading over my nose as he talks.

"I stand by my idea," Kyoya says.

"Well, we like it," Hikaru and Kaoru say from next to Honey, practically sitting on one another's laps.

"We have to be considerate of Akira!" Tamaki protests, but Haruhi cuts him off, mumbling her agreement to Kyoya's idea. I think it's mutely agreed upon that Tamaki is using my problem as a scapegoat to keep close to Haruhi. I tell myself that he's reluctant to part with me, too, but I know that it's mostly Haruhi.

"I'll be fine, Tamaki senpai," I assure, although I'm not so sure if I was telling the truth. Haruhi will be there though, and that's pretty good for me. Indecision flashes across the host king's face as he looks between me and Haruhi. We both, as if in silent agreement to convince Tamaki, put on our best smiles (I even nibble my bottom lip for good measure).

"Okay, we'll try it out. But if anything goes wrong," Tamaki casts me a pointed glance, "It stops."

"Of course," Kyoya agrees.

The conversation continues on so we can discuss who leads the new division - Haruhi, of course -, when and when not to do the same cosplays - whenever the girls can afford it -, club trips - always the same -, and where to hold it - the music room -. Once all of these things are finally decided, Honey is yawning and I myself am feeling drowsiness pull at me. The setting sun is casting a golden and orange glow through the large window panes, and it's peaceful.

Mori accompanies Honey home, Haruhi is muttering about studying and sleeping aas she leaves, the twins trot away holding hands and talking to each other, and Tamaki sweeps out of the room, stating in his grandiose way something about being locked overnight in the school. Anyway, my point is that only Kyoya and I are left.

I have a sudden urge to fill the silence with words. Kyoya is blatantly ignoring me, tapping away on his computer while I sit on the window sill, contemplating going home (It's not that I hate it there, it's that no one really gave me any reason to love it more than school).

"Kyoya?" I ask quietly. He's actually sitting at a table directly under the window, which only makes me all the more irritated that he's ignoring me. He knows I'm not good at filling the silence.

"Yes?"

"Thanks again, for what you did today at the meeting."

"You're welcome," Kyoya says almost suspiciously.

"No one has ever done that for me before. Memorize the poem, I mean." I tilt my head towards him to see his reaction, hoping he thinks that the blush forming on my cheeks is a trick of the light. To my surprise, Kyoya clicks off his computer, shuts it, and hoists himself up to balance on the window sill the same way I do. I don't think that Kyoya has ever ignored work just to talk to someone.

"I'm surprised," the raven haired boy says, startling me further.

"Wh- Why?"

"Your comfort is worth a few lines of a poem."

My blush deepens at his words. He turns away to look out the window. I have a feeling that this is probably the most romantic thing he's ever said. To anyone. I find myself studying him openly. The delicate line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, his slate eyes reflecting the sun's glow. Suddenly, the nickname Shadow King seems completely idiotic. If anything, the boy sitting in front of me should be the Sunlight King.  
"The Sunlight King," I dub him. He looks at me.  
"What?"  
"The Sunlight King. That's who you are. Not the Shadow King, the Sunlight King," I clarify, watching as his expression changes.  
I don't know what happens next. Maybe we stay like that for an hour, him watching me and I returning the favor. Maybe I never said anything at all. Anyway, what happens next washes every coherent thought from my mind, replaces the aftereffects of the panic attack with fuzzy heat.

Kyoya leans forward, so close I freeze up. I can feel his soft breathing on my nose his ebony hair brushing my forehead. Then, I feel his hot lips covering mine, stealing my breath. I think that his lips are electric, that his touch is sending fireworks coursing down my spine. Who's to tell? My clarity took leave when he leaned forward.

I unconsciously place a hesitant hand on his upper arm, sliding my eyes shut. I can feel his cool fingers through the fabric of my shirt where he touches the small of my back.

Then, the heat of his lips are gone, his touch no longer sparking my nerves. I feel my breath hitch rather belatedly. The next thing I know, Kyoya is gone from the sill, gone from the room, leaving me here to ponder what just happened. Was that really a kiss? Or a convincing dream?

Dammit, that Sunlight King is cruel! Despite this thought, I am smiling.

 **Hmmmm... This opens up some doors.**

 **How do you guys like my attempt at making you nosebleed at a T rating? XD (I could totally do better if you wanted it. All you have to do is ask!)**


	20. Broken Inside

**Well, well, well. Spring break is here. I'll try to write as much as possible, but no promises. My cousins are over (yay!) and I've actually gotten them to like Ouran. They're boys, too. Never thought I'd see the day...**

 **Anyway, I have big plans. BIG PLANS for Akira. Poor girl.**

"Mistress Akira, we're so glad you're home!" The servants call out greetings to me as I pass them in the hallways. Ever since I've been a host's apprentice, I've smiled and waved to everyone, even though it brings a gut deep since of unease to me. Now, I keep my head down, welcoming the panic of every eye on me. Whispers follow me down the hall after I've passed.

"She was doing so well..."

"I thought she'd changed."

"Poor girl."

"Mistress Mika and Master Noboru won't be pleased."

I wasn't supposed to hear it. I stop anyway, my feet refusing to move. Keep walking, I tell myself. Keep going. You knew this would happen no matter what. Keep going. No matter how loud I shout mentally, my legs are rooted to the ground.

"Excuse me?" I ask the maid who'd said it.

"I - I apologize, Mistress. I didn't mean to offend you," the slight girl stutters. I suddenly feel really bad. It's not really my place to tell her off. That's Father's job.

"No," I sigh. "You didn't." I advert my eyes and continue my way along the carpeted halls, mesmerized at the sudden motion of my feet. I reach my bedroom door and slip inside. I kick it closed with my foot, but it bounces back and hits me in the back of the head.

"Ha! Keep your guard up, Akira, or you may get a concussion." My sister's hauntingly sweet voice drifts from the other side of the doorway. As I turn, she retracts her foot from where she'd stuffed it in between the shutting door and doorjamb, making it bounce back with all the force I'd slammed it with to knock me in the head. Genius. Quite possibly a child genius.

"Did you know the name Akira means bright or clear? That's not you. Something's muddling your thoughts, sweet sister. What is it?"

"Like I'd tell you," I huff, slinging my shoulder bag on to the bed and following it.

"Aw, come on. We're sisters."

"Rio," I growl through clenched teeth, surprising even myself.

"Oh, I'm in trouble," she says with a haughty giggle, skipping into my room.

"Get out."

"No."

"Fine."

I'm jealous of Rio and she knows it. She's only fourteen and the budding image of perfection. Loose ringlets of dark hair accented with bright golden highlights, gorgeous sapphire eyes sparkling with intelligence, tiny pink bow lips, delicate jawline, petite nose. She's only in her second year of middle school and could beat our father in chess any day. I probably could too, but any time I asked to play with him, he'd say he was busy. The next hour though, I'd come to ask again and find him and Rio already caught up in a match.

Father and Mother both obviously prefer Rio over me. I'm two years older, I'm just as smart as Rio. Granted, I'm not a pretty or popular. I don't have young men showing up at the front porch every day with flowers declaring their undying love. I don't have the designer clothes Rio has or the makeup and jewelery. Once, when I asked for a jade bracelet like the one Rio had when I was ten and she was eight, my Mother told me to stop being selfish. When I was eight and Rio was six, I asked Father to read me a story from a copy of Arabian Nights I'd bought with some yen I'd found on the sidewalk. He told me to stop asking for so much and, as a punishment, took the book away from me. The next morning, Rio showed me her copy of Arabian Nights that Father gave her the night before. When I got angry and cried and Mother found me, she yelled at me because I was being conceited and selfish.

"Akira, I actually just came to tell you that Mother and Father want to see us in the study." Rio skips away grandly, her caramel curls bouncing on her waist. I follow her at a slower pace, fuming at her back as she slowly gets further away.

I finally reach the thick oak of the study door. These things are never good. I feel my palm slick on the knob, and a bout of dizziness washes over me. My legs buckle, and I catch myself on the door, leaning against it heavily. Oh no, not an attack. Please not now. Please. The door swings open from the other side and I fall in on unsteady legs. Before I can comprehend the shadow standing above me, rough hands grip my forearm tightly, hauling me up and almost dislocating my shoulder.

"Get up you clumsy girl," My father's voice hisses in my ear. "Why are you late?"

"L- Late?"

"Yes, late! Did you forget your map of your own house and get lost?"

"Sorry, Father," I release a breath as the man dislodges his fingernails from my arm, throwing it against my side.

"That's Master Helleusa to you."

"Yes, sir." I'm surprised to find my voice is steady. Rock hard. I get the nerve to raise my gaze from the crimson carpet to see Rio perched in Mother's lap, smiling as Mother speaks quietly into her ear.

"Why are you so late coming home, Akira? For your own sake, you better not be doing anything illegal."

"Of course not, Fath- uh, sir."

"Then what were you doing?" He's so close I can smell what the family had for dinner. They didn't wait for me. Of course not.

"St - Studying."

"Stop stuttering!" He roars, balling his fists at his sides. "It gives me a headache."

"I - I can't h- help it," My voice is shaking now, my legs weakening farther. I stumble forward a step, urging myself not to fall. But I trip right into my father's chest. Another mammoth roar bellows in my ears and hands shove me back against the wall where I was leaning. I put my hands out to try to cushion the blow. My head cracks against the wall, driving my breath from my chest and my wrist twists violently under my back. Stars speckle my vision, and I can't tell if they are from the bump on the head or the vicious pain in my wrist. Despite my best efforts, I collapse to the floor, pain darting up my arm and lancing the back of my head. A panic attack slaps me hard, stealing the remainder of my breath and slicking my body with cold sweat.

"Be ready. We're going to an event on Saturday. Don't disappoint me. Now, get out!" Father bellows. I make quick work of the order, stumbling back into my room as fast as possible, ignoring the colorful fireworks dotting my vision, nursing a painful, bruising arm and weakened legs. I collapse on to my bed, panting, probably staining the sheets with sweat, but I don't care.

My left wrist is numbed with stabbing pain. It's probably not a good sign, but I'm temporarily glad for the relief.

I hear footsteps walking as quietly as possible down the hall. I listen to the cadence and know it's not Rio or Father. These are too even and light. A maid, then. I tilt my head up and see her, the same maid I confronted in the hallway.

"Hey," I call. She starts, and turns toward me slowly, like she's afraid to set me off. "Come here." I say it gently, because she's probably just as spooked as I am.

"What can I help you with, Mistress?" She perches a basket of linens on her hip, attempting a curtsey but instead dropping the towels and pillowcases on my bedroom floor. She drops to her knees quickly, righting the basket. On instinct, I roll off the bed and help her pick them up using only one arm.

"I just wanted to know where we keep the painkillers," I say, throwing a towel into the basket and not looking at the girl.

"Oh. In the kitchen, I think. The drawer under the microwave."

"Thanks," She stuffs the last pillowcase in the basket and I grab it with one hand, standing.

"By the way," I say, giving the basket back to her. "You don't have to curtsey to me. That's only something Father makes you do."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Th- That wasn't an order, I m- mean you don't have t- t- to, but you can if you w- want," I am suddenly staring at the floor, heat radiating off my cheeks.

"Thank you for your help," The maid says, and leaves while I'm still tongue-tied.

I sit on the bed, not really in the mood to go get the painkillers. It doesn't hurt that much anyway. I poke my fingers experimentally, wincing as little electric shock waves roll into the sensitive area on my wrist. It doesn't really hurt, so I delicately run my fingers over the already bright green and purple bruise ensnaring my bony wrist like a vice. A very bad idea. I gasp at the sudden pain, worse than when it twisted under me. What did Father do to it? It's probably not that important. On second thought, maybe I do need the painkillers...

 **Do** ** _you_** **think she needs the painkillers? And who's a good doctor that we all know and love? xD Spoilers below.**

 **Nah, jk. None for you! Nice try though. 3**


	21. Mini 2 - The Stalking Game

**This needs no description, and I have nothing to say except this:**

 **So, you know my best friend (no you don't)? She basically taught me my own plot. Anyway, this killed her. So, enjoy!**

Tamaki insisted I'd come along on an impromptu jaunt to Haruhi's house. I am severely regretting it now.

"Get down, Akira!" Tamaki hisses from behind a knee-high bush. So far, we haven't actually been to Haruhi's house. Tamaki insists on watching her from the sidelines as she goes about her business.

"Tamaki, I can't! I'm wearing a short skirt."

"You shouldn't have worn such a revealing garment then."

"You shouldn't have come over to my house at eight in the morning. All my clothes were in the wash."

The blonde says nothing, shushing me for the fifth time in as many minutes. Yes, we've been behind the bush for five minutes already.

"Why is no one else here, Tamaki?" I ask.

"They're all spoil sports," The boy whines in a mocking voice. "Don't want to get up early. They can sleep their day away while we have fun!" He pauses, peering through the leaves. "Oh, look, Haruhi's here!"

I carefully sit down on the grass while his back is turned, hoping he didn't see anything, and look where he looks. Sure enough, the brunette is carrying plastic shopping bags and walking carefree down the street. She looks so much happier than I've ever seen her at school. I have a sudden urge to find out what this side of Haruhi is like.

Before Tamaki can stop me, I push myself from the wall and intercept her.

"Haruhi?"

"Oh! Akira? What are you doing here?" She turns her caramel eyes towards me, almost dropping her bags in surprise.

"Tamaki calls it the 'Stalking Game'. He says you love it."

"Senpai!" She screeches, startling the whole block. Tamaki appears from behind the bush, popping out like a jack-in-the-box. He claps his hands, singsonging,

"Oh, Haruhi. I followed you to carry your bags. You know how Daddy loves accessories!"

 **Blink, blink.**


	22. Of Friendship and Stupidity

**Warning- bad descriptions of kissing and this one has Kyoya kind of OOC.** **He's mine though so you can't have him.**

I find myself excited for school today. Anything to get me away from home. I climb the steps, ignoring the jolts of pain running into my left wrist. My only thought on the subject of injured wrists is, Ow, ow, ow, I'm glad this isn't my right wrist, ow, ow, ow... Very productive thinking indeed. I had decided to wear gloves that are two sizes too big for me today. I constantly pull the cuffs up, wincing when I touch the tender bruise.

"Hi, Aki-chan!" I hear Honey's high voice call from behind me. "Wait up!"

I obediently stop on the stairs and turn to see him bounding up the steps, Mori a few paces behind him. Honey reaches my side and begins talking.

"I think Tama-chan and Kyo-chan," I blush at Kyoya's name, "Are going to tell the guests about the girls' division today. It's a really smart idea, don't 'ya think?" I nod, but he's already continuing. "It's really nice that we're going to start servicing boys. That way no one is left out. Kyoya's really smart, isn't he? Wait, the idea was yours though. When you first joined. Remember?"

"Yes, Honey-senpai. I remember." The guilt is still fresh, though. How I'd practically lied to their faces. I remember in Okinawa how I'd been angry that no one told me Haruhi's real gender. I just now realize the irony in that. I'm such a hypocrite.

"So, that makes you smart, too!" Honey declares. I startle while pushing open the door to my classroom, letting it slam shut. Rio comes to my mind, how she beats Father at chess every time, and with that thought comes the blinding jealousy that accompanies it like usual. I could if I tried. I could do just as well as she could if I was given the same opportunities, the same love. No, I'll get my birthright and be their favorite, no matter what Mother and Father think.

"Thank you, Honey." The Lolita boy skips off. Mori departs in a more sophisticated manner, with a lazy wave and a casual "Bye."

I finally make it into the classroom, sitting at my seat just behind Kaoru. He, Haruhi, Hikaru and I all have this class together. I guess I really am lucky to have at least one class with a few friends. I hang my shoulder bag on the back of my chair, hating the awkward way the puffy skirt twists around my hips. As I'm squirming and trying to straighten it with one hand, the teacher gives an order.

"Class, partner up! We're doing a group project today."

Before I can think, I impulsively raise my hand to inform her that I don't have a partner. I catch myself though. Things have been changing recently, I tell myself. You never know. Just as my inner brain told me, I get a partner for a group project.

"Hey, Akira. Want to be partners?"

"Sure, Haruhi," I smile. She gets up and takes a seat to the empty seat to my left. The teacher begins giving instruction once again, and Haruhi listens intently, tapping her pencil against her bottom lip. I twist my fingers in my hair, letting my thoughts wander and not caring one way or another what the teacher is saying. Calm moments are pretty rare for me, and I'm especially tired today, because I stayed up all night worrying about my injured wrist and the party that I have to go to tomorrow. My father's words echo in my head. _Don't disappoint me_. Yeah, like I can help it.

Against my will - I tried to hold it in, I really did - I let out a loud snort at my own inner joke. My hand comes up to cover my mouth. Only half a second too late do I realize that it's my left hand I moved, as my right is busy being tangled in my hair. Pain flashes down my arm, so sudden and intense that golden stars flash in my vision. I yelp in pain.

"Miss Helleusa, is there a problem?" The teacher asks, a mixture of about ninety percent annoyance and ten percent concern permeating her voice.

"I- I'm sorry, sensei," I mutter, adverting my vision so she doesn't see the tears glistening on my cheeks. The teacher begins speaking again, pointing animatedly to the board behind her. I feel the tingle of someone's eyes on me and look up from where I was staring at the wooden desk to see Haruhi gazing intently at me.

"Are you okay, Akira?" She asks with much more concern than the teacher did.

"Of course," I say, proud of myself for not stammering.

"Cut the crap and tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing." If I tell you, Father will be angry.

Anger flashes in Haruhi's eyes. She glaces at the hand hanging limply at my side. I flash a weak grin at her. Alas, it was in vain. The brunette seizes my elbow in a rare moment of anger and yanks off the glove. Her grip tenders, and she carefully runs her other hand up my forearm in some kind of strange fascination. I bite my lip as she gets closer to the blackening bruise.

"Hikaru, Kaoru" She whispers, retracting her hand but keeping a firm yet gentle hold on my elbow. "Look at this."

The twins turn in unison, gaping at what they see. They look from me to my hand to Haruhi and to one another, thinking of something to say.

"The boss is going to go crazy," Kaoru finally states. Hikaru nods in agreement. I blush.

-(Let's time skip to club activities, shall we?)- 

"Boss!" Hikaru and Kaoru shout, slamming the door open. Haruhi practically drags me along behind them (by my good hand, of course) as we parade together into the room. Every host is there, and Honey and Tamaki startle at the sudden sound.

"Yes?" Tamaki ambles over casually.

"Look! Something happened to Akira."

"What?" Tamaki's eyes cloud with worry. He pushes past the twins and places soft hands on my shoulders. He speaks quietly so only I can hear.

"Did someone hurt you?" And then, "Did you hurt yourself?"

I want to tell you, Tamaki. I have to. My better judgement finally pushes past my fear of my father, and I tell him exactly what happened in stammering sentences. I tell him about my father's anger and how he loves Rio so much. I tell him why I joined the club, to make Father happy. I tell Tamaki about my wrist and how Father pushed me against the wall and Mother didn't care. Aren't they supposed to love me? I finish with that thought.

"Oh," is all the Host King can muster. I look around and realize I'd gathered a crowd of Hosts, all silent and staring at me. No, I think. Don't stare, say something. I swear in my head as my lungs constrict and my knees wobble under me. Before I fall, though, I feel someone holding me up.

"Is it broken?" Mori asks, sticking to the logical stuff for now. I silently thank him.

"I don't know."

"Does it hurt?" Tamaki asks.

"Yes."

"It's probably fractured, not broken," Kyoya inputs. "If you can move it, that is." I experimentally force my wrist to move. It works, but shocking pain shoots up my arm.

"Yes, I can. But it hurts," I tell him with a light gasp at the pain.

"Fractured, then. Most likely a large fracture, or fractured in several places. Come with me." And I do.

Kyoya leads me into the changing area, where he sweeps aside the curtain and proceeds to the bench. I watch in fascination as he lifts up the lip of the far section and takes out a heavy duty first-aid kit from a hollow in the bench that I previously thought was solid painted wood.

"Wha-" I start, surprised, but am cut off by a glance from Kyoya. I suppose everyone can have their secrets. He takes a roll of sprain gauze from the box and wraps it tightly around the bruise. I bite my knuckle while he works. The pain starts at heated, then runs to throbbing, excruciating, and finally fades into a numb, cold state. The Shadow King stands, replaces the now gauze-less box back in the hollow, and closes the bench top.

"Thank you," I say, more than a little self conscious now that he's openly inspecting me with slate gray eyes. "Where did you learn this stuff?"

"My family owns a string of medical facilities. I learn things."

"Those tricks saved my life once," I giggle in good nature, but it fades quickly into a blush. My lips give me a phantom tingle where his pressed against them.

"Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation can be very useful."

"Very," I mimic. There's about a half a second pause.

"If I didn't know it, I wouldn't be able to kiss you."

"What?" I reply, my voice cracking on the word. I slip my gaze toward Kyoya's to find him looking at me, his head tilted slightly and his mouth curved in a smile. It's a simple gesture, curious and thoughtful, and I've seen many people wear the same. But, for some reason, it's different on Kyoya. For some reason that I'm positive I'll never be able to voice even to myself, I lean in and kiss him.

I don't think it's at all like the one we shared yesterday. I don't know why, but I have ten times the confidence I did yesterday. I still have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. Sure, I've been kissed before, but I have no clue how to kiss someone when I've initiated it.

"Kyoya? Akira? Did you guys die in here?" I hear Haruhi's voice over the din of my beating heart. I accidentally let out a small gasp of surprise against Kyoya's lips and pull back, tripping over my incorrigible shoes and catching myself on the wall with my good hand. The yellow curtain that was about half closed whips all the way back to reveal none other than Haruhi, eyes wide and looking more than a little annoyed. She pretends to ignore my bright, heated blush, caramel eyes drifting to the tight wrapping on my wrist.

"Great, you're done. We're about to open."

"Very well," Kyoya agrees, standing and pushing his glasses up on his nose. I only nod and trail behind, not trusting myself to speak. Haruhi leads us back into the music room, where we'd apparently missed the opening. Kyoya and Haruhi are immediately swept up by a small crowd of girls. I stand on my toes and search for either Tomio or Daiki. I see them sitting together at a table near a window. My eyes on them, I take a step forward and immediately hit a solid... thing. This solid thing just happens to be a person. I tumble over them and we both end up following one another on to the floor.

"I- I'm sorry," I apologize, biting back the pain of my wrist hitting the floor.

"Ah, no. My fault. I'm sorry," The person says. I prop myself up on my elbows and see a hand extended towards me. I follow it up the arm and see a large-ish boy with olive hair and kind features.

"Oh," I say, noticing it's a boy. "I'm Akira. Are you here to see me?"

"No, sorry," The boy says, and walks away. I follow him across the room with my eyes, where he meets yet another young man I've never seen before, this one with dazzling blue eyes I can see from here on the floor and inky black hair. They exchange a few words, then just leave.

"Why are you on the floor?" I hear Daiki's voice. His hand enters the top of my vision, followed by his trademark goofy grin, slightly obscured by the hair falling in his face. I take his hand and he hauls me off the floor, keeping hold of my fingers until we reach where Tomio is seated.

"Look what the Daiki dragged in," Tomio jokes as I sit down, folding the sunburst yellow dress beneath my legs.

"Oh, is that what I am now?" Daiki questions in mock anger.

"Of course," Tomio feints surprise, "What did you think you were?"

"I was hoping to top proper noun."

"Keep dreaming," Tomio laughs.

"Get married please," I suggest, resting my head in the palm of my hand and poking at the bundle of roses sitting atop the silver serving platter.

"I'm working on it," Tomio says, blowing a kiss to Daiki. The brunette clutches at the air and slaps himself in the face, pretending to catch the kiss and place it on his cheek. He throws a mocking wink Tomio's way.

"Thank goodness it's Friday," Daiki stretches in his seat. "I'm so ready to not be here any more."

"You can say that again," Tomio agrees. I nod my head distractedly. With the weekend comes the stupid party my family wants me to go to. I sigh to myself as Tomio and Daiki chatter on. They can be so completely oblivious sometimes.

 **Ole! Review, pretty please?**


	23. And the Band Played On

**This is a songfic (probably). I don't own the song and I don't know what it's called or who it's by. My dad used to sing it to me when I was little, and I happened to remember pieces of the lyrics and though it'd be perfect for them.**

 **Review if you ship KyoKira/AkiKyo/Akyoya! (Also tell me which ship name is better.)**

Saturday passes as all Saturdays do; with hours blurring together as I reread my various books I'd stashed inside my mattress, wedged in between springs. I practice various languages for a while, study, and do homework until Rio bursts into my room wearing nothing but a thin silk robe.

"Akira, we're leaving for the party in an hour," my sister says, brimming with happiness.

"Wonderful," I say, voice dripping with malcontent. Rio scrunches up her nose at me. "Go put on some pants," I suggest. Rio leaves with all the grace of a supermodel.

I sigh, placing down my pencil and abandon my English adverbs. I go to my closet, and rifle trough the three dresses I have hanging there. Mother would want me to wear the golden one, but that's cut too low for comfort. Father would probably like the black one, but that makes me look like I'm going to a funeral. The last and most obvious choice is the red one, but Rio says red's not my color. She'd tease me all night if I wore it. I just can't win.

I pick up a small compact mirror from my nightstand and study my face with it. My shoulder length dark spiky hair, my thick, gently curving eyebrows, my cheeks that still haven't lost all their baby fat yet, my bright eyes wide with childhood. My eyes are my best feature, and I do sort of want to throw whatever good looks I may have straight at my Father's face. Then again, I don't have a dress like that.

Yes, I do! The green one I wore to the Host's ball. It's a big "screw you" to my father. A symbol that I don't need him. I throw the mirror on my bed and attack my closet, searching for the paper bag I know I shoved in there, hoping my family wouldn't find it and take it. I spot the bag behind a mountainous pile of dirty clothes and drag it out. Sure enough, the beautiful dress and the brushed golden shoes sit there, waiting for me. I hurriedly put it on, still admiring the way it makes me look... pretty. As pretty as Rio. I daresay maybe even more. I brush my eyelids with faintly shimmering gold powder, all the makeup I need. Makeup never really looked good on me. It covers up my freckles, which just looks weird and my lips are naturally bright red anyway. Then, I sit and wait.

"Mistress Akira?" A maid knocks at my door.

"Yes, come in," I call back.

"Master Noboru and Mistress Mika want you to meet them in the entry hall."

"Thank you," I say. I jump up and almost run to the entry hall. Mother and Father are already there, Mother glittering with makeup and Father looking even more stern than usual.

"What the devil are you wearing, girl?" My father growls upon seeing me.

"A dress," I say, feinting innocence.

"Ungrateful brat. Can't you wear what we bought for you with our own money?" My mother accuses.

"I thought you wanted me to look my best, Mother," I say, already striding across the floor and out to the car.

The car ride is uneventful. When we reach the party, the driver drops us off at the door. I, of course, get out last and follow my happy family up the sidewalk and into the mansion. Mother, Father and Rio are immediately swallowed by a group of people in dazzling outfits. I, not being one for crowded places, make my way to the refreshment table to get a drink to clear my already dry throat.

I seat myself on the floor with punch in hand, and watch the world go by. My little sister is already dancing with a young boy about her age, Mother and Father are talking to a growing group of various aristocracy, and I just sit in the corner next to the refreshment table, ignoring all the strange looks I get of the people who may actually see me. I'm pretty well hidden behind a silky tablecloth and layers of shadow. I watch two pairs of feet approach from under the table, and their conversation reaches me.

"Yuuichi, Father told me he'd found a bride for you, that you'll meet her at this party," The first one says.

"I am aware," the second, and probably oldest responds.

"Is it not just wonderful? Your new bride is somewhere in this room right now!"

"Yes," The second one sighs. "I already told you, I am aware."

"You're no fun," the first one pouts.

"Fun doesn't run a company, Akito," the oldest retorts.

"Father is so uptight. You and Kyoya, too. Just have a little fun while you're here? Please?"

Kyoya? Then it hits me. Kyoya, I know, has two older brothers. Could this be them? Could he actually be here? I risk a peek out from under the table. Sure enough, black hair, pale skin and steel eyes greet me in both young men. They really favor each other, especially the youngest.

A plastic cup falls inches from my nose, and a hand follows directly after it. Then comes a face, and the younger brother is inches away from me. I expect him to scream in surprise or something, but his lips quirk up and he grins. I am reminded of Daiki's foolish, carefree smile.

"Hi. Why are you under a table?" Akito Ootori asks me. My tongue feels like rubber in my mouth. He offers me a hand up and I take it, crawling out from my hiding place and blinking in the party.

"I- I- uh, hiding," I manage to stammer out. Akito releases my hand.

"I'm Akito Ootori," he bows comically. "You're really cute. What's your name?"

"A- Akira Helleusa," I stammer, ignoring the compliment.

"Ah, Helleusa Publishing. I've heard of you," Yuuichi interjects. "You're a friend of Kyoya's, from that silly club."

"Yes," I say, ignoring the insult and staring at the floor.

"Yuuichi, Akito, there you are. I was just speaking to-," Kyoya walks up behind his brothers, and cuts himself off abruptly. "Akira?"

"Hello, Kyoya," I greet. I was right! He's here! At least this party won't be completely unbearable. I may actually have some protection against my father now. Kyoya will protect me. He has before.

"Kyoya, we found your friend under a table. You should take better care of her," Akito states.

"I didn't expect you to be here," Kyoya says, cool as always.

"I could say the same for you."

"I suppose you could." There's a pause that I ride out brushing my feet on the floor. "Would you like to dance?"

"What?" I say, a little surprised. "I- I mean, sure."

Kyoya takes my hand and leads me away from the wall. He places his other on my back, and leads me in the complex steps of dance. Kyoya holds me just a little bit closer than friends. I can feel his body heat through my clothing, his breath tickles the hair resting on my forehead, his hands comforting and soft on mine. I can tell that this isn't a friendly you-happen-to-be-at-the-same-party-as-me-so-let's-dance dance. This is more like a you-happen-to-be-here-and-I-happen-to-want-to-dance-with-you dance. Our bodies move in unison to the music, and for a moment, the pain in my wrist is gone, the dread of talking to my family disappears. For a moment, I can be free.

I catch the lyrics to the song we're dancing to, and smile at it. The music is beautiful, and I greatly appreciate the lyrics.

 _He whirled 'cross the floor_  
 _With the girl he adored_  
 _And the band played on._  
 _His brain was so loaded it nearly exploded,_  
 _And the poor girl, she quaked, with alarm._  
 _He married the girl_  
 _With the strawberry curl_  
 _And the band played on._  
 _Once upon a time,_  
 _A girl, with moonlight in her eyes_  
 _Said she loved me so._  
 _But that was once upon a time._  
 _Not so long ago._

"Akira," I hear my name said cold and harsh. A shiver wracks my spine and my body stops moving. I turn around, scared of what I'll see. My hand lifts from Kyoya's shoulder, but our clasped hands stay just that.

"Yes, Father?"

"If you'd stop your foolish displays of false romance," Anger boils in a blush on my face and Kyoya squeezes my hands just a little bit, "There's someone I want you to meet."

I'm surprised. Scared, even. Father always passes me by and introduces all our family's assets to Rio as if I don't exist. This is almost exciting, but I'm a little too frightened too be fully excited. I just know I'll mess up.

"Okay, sir," I say, reluctantly slipping my hand from Kyoya's. My father turns briskly away and leads me quickly from the dance floor. I cast a glance over my shoulder for Kyoya, but he's already gone.

 **I don't know anything about Kyoya's brothers except their names. So, I was thinking that maybe Akito is a complete idiot, so Kyoya's parents had to try again, and that's how the Shadow King was born.**

 **Rawr, review.**


	24. Not My Sunlight King

**I'd like to thank the guest that reviewed their praise for my humble story. Maybe other people can follow his/her example. xD Jk Only if you want to, but reviewing is highly respected, admired, praised, and appreciated (My best friend can confirm the last one. I was seriously in a Skype chat with her and expressing in great detail how I was about to cry tars of joy)! 3**

Harsh hands twist into my hair. It's not just the pain I don't like, nor the embarrassing way it makes tears run down my face. No, what I hate is that the action perverts my lifelong comforting habit of playing with my hair.

"Apologize, you foolish girl!" My father hisses into my ear. This is the third or so times he'd said it, and each time his fingernails dig further into my shoulder and his fingers twist my hair, pulling and making my scalp scream.

"I- I'm sorry, sir!" I gasp, tasting salty tears on my lips as my feet scrabble on the floor. One of my golden shoes is hanging off my heel and my dress's sleeve is slipping off my shoulder. My defiance dissolves to the pain.

My father releases me harshly, pushing me away from him and sending me stumbling over myself. Gratefully, I manage to catch myself on the wall. He turns briskly and clops away, his footsteps filling the now silent hallway. I scramble after him, smoothing down my hair, straightening my dress, and brushing the water away from my eyes. I know that wherever we're going, Father expects me to not look like a bumbling idiot. You can get rid of that thought. I'm not Rio.

He stops in front of a large white door that reminds me a lot of the one at the Music Room #3. I straighten at the sight of it, absorbing the comfort it gives. My Father swings the door open without a word. We slip inside. Father walks a few steps into the room and I push the door closed and lean on it, hoping no one will notice me quite yet.

Two men sit on plush divans in what looks like a drawing room or sitting room. They both rise as soon as they spot Father. They both share similar physical characteristics. The men both have alabaster skin and ebony hair that is unkempt in almost a professional way. They wear stern suits and matching looks of obviously fake warmness.

"Mister Helleusa," The older of the two greets. "How have you been?"

"Well, Mister Ootori. And you?"

"Very well. This is Akira, I presume?" Mr. Ootori's eyes travel to me. I blush and find his shoes very fascinating.

"Yes. And this is Yuuichi?"

"The heir to the Ootori Group company," He looks at Yuuichi fondly, but not fatherly. My heart clenches at the look. I have a feeling that it's not quite love, but pure pride. I'd kill for that look from my father.

"Of course," My father says, taking Yuuichi's hand. "Pleasure. Akira, come here." I carry out his order without a word, truly frightened at what I will experience.

"Akira Helleusa," Yuuichi says, folding my hand in his. "I believe we've met, but have not yet been introduced. I am Yuuichi Ootori, your fiance."

"Excuse me?" I say startled, taking back my hand perhaps a little too roughly. He can't have just said what I think he said.

"Oh, I apologize," Yuuichi says, genuinely startled at my reaction. "Did you not know?"

"Kn- Know what?" _Please don't say it, please don't say what I think you're going to say_.

"Our fathers have made an arrangement for our wedding to take place in three weeks."

 _You said it. Now I have to say something back._ It takes me more than a few seconds to think up a response.

"What? Bu- But why?"

"To utilize our assets, of course." He says it like I'm an idiot, which may or may not be true. Either way, it ticks me off. But still. The way he said that... somehow reminds me just a little bit of Kyoya, before he was the Sunlight King. When he was just another phantom boy sitting in a room with a bunch of schoolboys in a host club.

I look between Yuuichi, who shows no emotion, and my father, who is sending thinly veiled anger in the form of glares. He wants me to agree. And I know what he'll do if I don't.

"Darling," my father says. "Don't you want to help? You know Kessikona has been creeping up the ranks. This is for your own good." My father refers to his lifelong rival, the Kessikona Publishing and Production Company. Of course, it's never just about my future. There's always that ulterior get rich quick motive. He glares at me hard. _Very well. Let's play it your way, as always._

"Okay," I say, as quiet and meek as I feel under my father's stare. _There,_ I think. _I agreed. I did what you want. Now you have no reason to hurt me._

Yeah, I laugh internally at myself. _That never stopped him before._

-(Time Skip to after all the boring dialogue 'n stuff)-

I'd escaped from the room about twenty minutes ago. I couldn't take any more of that blasted conversation. They talked about this horrible marriage like they were discussing the weather. They were so damned casual, like this decision doesn't affect all of our lives!

I found a corner in a hallway just off the main ballroom that the light doesn't touch. I sit myself on the tiled floor. The elastic band that holds my shoes tightly to my feet dig into my skin, due to the way I sit with my legs folded under me, the green skirt of my dress falling halfway down my thighs. I wipe at my glistening cheeks, taking a bit of the golden, shimmering powder with the tears.

It's unfair! I'm a child! I still have that wide-eyed innocence Honey has despite his age and a high pitched voice, which may be because I'm a girl, but who really cares? I'm still in my first year of high school. What little freedom I may have had is now out the window. The public will expect me to be all happy-go-lucky at the prospect of marrying the heir to one of the most powerful companies of the time period. I suppose most girls at my school would be overjoyed. I'll never have to live in fear that Helleusa Publishing will go bankrupt, and...

...Oh, God, no. The scariest thought yet invades my mind, pushing all others out of the way until I'm shivering on the floor with seven words scrolling through my head. Please, oh, please, cruel father. Why must you torture me so?

Kyoya will be my brother-in-law.

 **Yeah, it's kind of short. All my chapters (I had up to chapter 24 done) were deleted from my writing software. All I had was back to chapter 17. Cries.**

 **Anyway, oooooh.**

 **Yuuichi and Akira. (No one ships it though. I sure don't xD)**


	25. Through Fogged Mind

**Sorry for being gone! I'm actually supposed to be doing projects and stuff because it's almost time for high school acceptance letters... but I'm not going anywhere that will hold me back on my writing. So, how's that, world? XD**

I sit in the cafeteria, the table empty before me. A few people (both genders of new guests and frequents alike) attempted to ask me what my problem is, but I managed to keep up my shy girl "act" and tell them nothing was wrong at the same time. I also managed to avoid meeting any of the host club in the halls today, which involved skipping my one class with Haruhi and the twins and even once ducking into the alcove for a boys' bathroom when I saw Tamaki approaching from down the hall. (That action duly earned me more than one glance from the second years exiting said bathroom.)

"Excuse me, may I sit here?"

I look up from the tabletop to see a girl with flaming red hair. She wears jeans under her yellow Ouran dress and two jackets over it. This girl, and I may be wrong about this, well, there's just something about her. She carries her tray with one arm and a book under the other. Her fiery hair rolls in waves over her shoulders, her blue eyes are accented with glasses.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I agree. She sets her tray down and slides on to the seat, looking about as annoyed with the puffy skirt as I usually feel.

"I'm Leiko, by the way. Leiko Rin."

"Akira," I introduce.

"I know who you are," She says, almost offended. "You're the first girl in the host club. That's a really brave thing to do."

"Ah," I say, a little bit embarrassed. "Thank you for the compliment, but I'm really not brave."

"Oh, I know," She laughs. "It was just a fluke. But that just makes it even more brave!" Really, I think. Is she trying to tick me off? Leiko adjusts her jackets, flashing a leather cord around her wrist with a small, muddy chocolate pendant adorning it. It sort of reminds me of Daiki's eyes. Just a little.

"Oh, what's this?" I change the subject, gesturing to her hand. She flinches and rubs the jewel with her thumb fondly.

"It's a charm bracelet." There's a pause. "Are you going to get that?"

"Get wha-," I am cut off by my phone ringing. I flip it open and check the caller ID. Unknown.

"Yes? Akira Helleusa," I say into the tiny microphone, looking at Leiko out of the corner of my eye.

"A- Akira?" The unknown caller is immediately identified.

"Tomio?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"How'd you get my number?" I ask, suspicious.

"Not the point," Tomio says, cutting to the chase. He gasps in a shaking breath that sounds like static over the phone.

"What's wrong, Tomio?" I ask, worried. Tomio is almost never this upset. If he is, I'll never know because he hides it so well.

"Are you sitting down? You should probably sit down. You may have an attack."

"Tomio," I say, my voice low and threaded with anger and worry. He stuttered. He's usually so confident. There must really be something wrong.

"What is it? I'm sitting down."

"It's Dai-." he sobs, unable to finish.

"What about Daiki?" I prod. I can hear the worry clearly in my own voice, warping it to an impossible sound.

"Akira, there was," A gasping sob wracks the tiny speakers, and then there's a pause. Finally, after what seems like an eternal silence, he continues. "There was a... a crash."

His meaning hits me like an iron stake.

"You don't mean...," I trail off, leaving hm to figure out what I couldn't say.

"Yeah. Daiki, he's-," I cut Tomio off.

"Please, don't say it." I feel a tear leak out of my eye, catching on my eyelashes and blurring my vision. Memories flash over my retinas, as if I'm seeing them through foggy glass.

 _"You're the girl from the Host Club, right?" Tomio asks._

 _"Yeah. You've heard of me?"_

 _"Everyone has," Daiki says. "No girl has ever joined the Host Club before. They're legends! At least, all the girls say they are. Tomio and I have always wanted to see what they go on about..."_

I smile at who I was then. I had a panic attack after talking to them. I can't even imagine that now. Daiki with his arm around Tomio, making kissing noises at the beach in Okinawa. Daiki and I dancing, his eyes portraying his worry for Tomio. Daiki, drunk on spiked punch, his sleeves carelessly rolled up, shoving a plastic cup my way. He and Tomio laughing, his goofy grin and muddy eyes and dark brown hair, his foolish jokes and oblivious outlook. I already have a pull at my heart for his jokes. I long to hear his laugh one more time, see his silly smile.

"I'm so sorry, Tomio." I've only known Daiki for a while, but Tomio's known him his whole life. I can't possibly imagine how hard he's taking this.

"He stepped in front of a car," Tomio says quietly. "They say it was intentional."

"They're wrong," I comfort. "Daiki cared too much about you to leave you alone."

"I know. Wanna hear what I think though?" His voice is low, mixed with burning anger and hatred.

"Tell me."

"I think someone pushed him."

"You wha-," but I am cut off by a click. Tomio hung up. I close the phone, clenching it hard in my palm, that's already slick with sweat. I sway in my chair. My heart pounds and my lungs constrict. I gasp in a breath as my hands start shaking.

"I'm sorry," Leiko says. I'd forgotten she was there. I look at her and see that she's smiling.

"For what?" I say, my voice shaking a little.

"Your friend."

"Of- of course. Thank you," I say, gathering myself up and standing not bothering to question how she knew Daiki... I grab the shoes I'd kicked off under the table and slip them back on. "If you'll excuse me," I mutter, already halfway to the door.

I hurry out of that suddenly crowded room and habitually to the music room. I finally reach it on wobbling legs, open the door with slick hands, and slip inside. I throw my shoes on the ground, strip off my socks, and bury my face in the overstuffed cushions on the couch. I can't tell if it's the panic attack or the grief that causes tears to stream down my face. Daiki can't be dead, he can't be! Tomio was mistaken, it must have been someone else named Daiki, or someone who looks like my friend. There's no way that goofy, oblivious, friendly, sweet, caring, worrying, beautiful Daiki can be gone.

"Akira," a voice that takes me more than a few seconds to identify calls. Footsteps accompany the swish of clothing as said person makes her way across the tiled floor. Surprised, I ignore for a moment the tears stealing my cheeks. I look up from the cushion.

"Leiko?"

"Yes."

I expect her to comfort me, to do something consoling at any sane person would do. But she doesn't. The ginger giggles. I meet her exotically slanted deep blue eyes with ones I can imagine are filled with angry fire. My heart pounds at a rapid rate, so quickly it probably can't be healthy. I take a steadying breath, closing my eyes, and finally opening them again when I've calmed down a little.

"May I ask why you're laughing?" I ask.

"Sure. You could ask it," Leiko sits with a shrug on the edge of the couch. I sit up, kick off my shoes, pull my legs up to my chest and wipe the tears from my eyes.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Akira," the girl stares straight forward. "Remember, in the end, death always wins. She always gets her price."

"Excuse me?" I say, taken aback. "The Black Magic club is over there." I point to the looming black door set in the music room's wall.

"Oh, no. I was meant to be here the whole time." With that, she flashes me a bright smile, stands and leaves the room.

 _The first ginger I've ever met outside of the Club, and she's creepy as all the stereotypes say._

 **I am... so sorry. You may thing I'm heartless or I hate Daiki. I am neither of those things. Leiko wanted me to kill him. Tomio hates me now, too. And Leiko. Nah, Tomio hates everyone.**

 **Any, Daiki. I love(d) him with all my heart, but my best friend (who Leiko is modeled after, but only a little in personality) waned blood. It was either him or Tomio, because I'm sure as heck not killing off a Hitachiin or Haruhi. So, I had to sacrifice my poor little Daiki.**

 **I have a message for his gravestone.**

 **RIP Daiki Yusimarea - Beloved friend, brother, son, and idiot. We'll miss you.**

 **Akira's crying now. Gotta go!**


	26. Wishes and Whatnot

**You guys! 3**

 **You have no idea how happy you made me. I got a follow and a review! I'm so happy you guys are liking Ouran Infiltrated. So, because of that, I'm giving you a fair warning. Depending on how fast I write, my schedule and stuff, and also what I feel like putting in (minis and random chapters that have noting to do with the plot) it may be over soon! Not saying within the next few chapters or anything, but I can see the end coming. Guesses are welcome at what you guys think will happen.**

 **Also, I love you all.**

 **(Insert Akira blush here)**

Last night, three days after my "engagement" to Yuuichi Ootori, (seventeen days until the wedding [I've been counting.]) my father decided he couldn't wait any longer for me to get out of his house and leave him alone. His last harsh words to me echo in my mind. _You are to leave my house, Akira, and go live with your fiance. It's only proper. You two are due to be married, so you may as well get to know each other. Now, pack your suitcase. All you need are you clothes, toiletries, and the possessions you bother to keep up with._

I huff at his words as I prepare myself for school. Ye-es. School. For an engaged girl. I huff again, shedding my night pants and stepping into my uniform. I pull on my socks, tie the stupid little bow around my neck, pick at the cuffs for nonexistent lint, and run a comb through my hair. I examine the bags under my eyes in the bathroom mirror while I brush my teeth. Tamaki won't be too pleased about my attitude today. I barely got any sleep at all last night. I couldn't help thinking - and I have no idea why - the same thoughts. Kyoya is in the room across the hall. I'm laying here next to his brother. Kyoya is in the room across the hall. I'm laying here next to his brother. Kyoya is...

It's been little beyond awkward between me and the whole Ootori family. Kyoya has barely spoken to me, besides what was necessary. Akito was... idiotic at best. They have a sister, Fuyumi, who was okay to me, although I could tell she treated me as little more than a child. Yuuichi, well, he was all business and 'our fathers arranged it so I have to be nice to you'. And sleeping in the same bed with an adult that I'm not closely related to made my face red all night. Awkward.

I rush into the hall, knowing somehow in my gut that I'm late. I breeze through the kitchen, not bothering with any breakfast. It still feels weird to eat at someone else's table, although I had dinner with them last night. Besides, I don't think I can keep down whatever gets put into my stomach. I open the grand front entrance, seeing a limo parked at the front. Sure enough, Kyoya is climbing in. When he sees me, he reopens the door. I side in, settling my dress around my legs and my bag on the floor.

"Sorry I almost made you late," I apologize.

"No problem," he responds, face buried in his notebook. I shut the door and the car takes off. It's silent, awkward. I can feel the tension building in the air. Isn't he a host? Shouldn't he say something? Obviously I'm distressed, and as Tamaki says, it's a host's job to make every girl happy. I pout at the ghost of a reflection in the car's window as the scenery rolls by.

"Kyoya?" I ask, snapping my lips shut when I realize I'd said it.

"Yes?"

"Uh...," _Say something, you fool!_ I berate myself. "Are- Are, um, are you angry with me?"

"No," he says slowly, looking at me from over the top of my book.

"Then how come you're ignoring me?" I pout at him, pursing my lips and looking at the seat between us. I think I've gotten this cute shy-without-being-rude thing down. Or maybe I just picked up a little from the months of working with Kaoru's uke act in the background. Either way, I know it will be effective before I even do it.

"I'm not angry at you, Akira," he says with a light sigh. "I'm angry at your father."

I scoff, allowing a stab of anger to penetrate. "Join the club." Then, it hits me what he said.

"Wait, Kyoya. Why are you angry at my father?" I snap my eyes up to meet his, blush at the look in his steely gaze, and drop my stare back to the seat.

"It's not like your life is affected one way or the other."

"You're acting like Tamaki," the Shadow King laughs. Laughs! He laughed at me! I set my jaw, looking down in defiance. I also cross my arms for effect.

"I'm not an idiot," I mumble, grasping his meaning immediately.

"I never said you were. You're merely acting like one."

"Well... you're, um," I stumble over a retort. I've never been good at intentionally insulting people. "You're... mysterious."

"Some ladies might be overjoyed at that trait," He says with a small smirk.

"Sh- Shut up," I blush.

"Akira," he says gently, sobering after his lapse and collecting himself again. "Of course it will affect me."

"How?" I want him to spell it out. _Patronize me._

"I'd have to kiss you secretly if you're my sister-in-law, wouldn't I?" I snap my gaze up to meet his. I flinch at the playful look in his eye. Most out of character.

"Kyoya," I recover quickly, deciding to make a joke. "Are you drunk?"

"No. I am thinking as clearly as ever."

I blush, and we continue the ride in silence, my face redder than a tomato.

-()-

When we make it to school, I climb out of the car first, as I'm closer to the door. I notice stares from the students, and I realize what the situation must look like. A girl, climbing out of a host's car. We're friends, we spend time together at school. As Kyoya exits the car and slams the door closed, he ignores the whispers that are now circulating around us. I catch some of them.  
"Is Kyoya giving her special treatment?"  
"Did they spend the night together?"  
"They do hang out a lot at school."  
"But Kyoya's not like that!"  
"Akira would never betray me!" I roll my eyes at this one. Blushing, eyes downcast, I follow Kyoya into school. I break off to my class, but am startled by a pair of arms wrapping around my waist from behind.  
"So, Akira," Hikaru starts. "You spent the night with Kyoya, huh?" Kaoru finishes.  
"N- No," I say truthfully. I spent the night with his brother. No reason for them to know that though.  
"Then why'd you get out of his car?" They ask together. I blush.  
"I rode to school with him."  
"Why?" They draw out the word.  
"Because I spent the night at his house."

"Why, though?" Hikaru asks in a very annoying fashion.

"Because shut up, that's why," I snap, tired of their games. Startled, they let go of me. I am left alone until the Host Club. I know, just know, this conversation isn't over. Hey, people will practically ship anything (Baman Piderman, anyone? Completely gender ambiguous love between a mass of tentacles and an anthropomorphic pumpkin? No? Okay...) and everyone's always looking for some good gossip. I can imagine the headlines on the school newspaper now. "Host girl Akira Helleusa to marry coworker's elder brother!" "Possible love affair between Akira Helleusa and Kyoya Ootori?" It's not like we've ever done anything, but rumors are two parts lie and one part truth.

-()-

I go through classes in a perfunctory manner. I ignore almost every single person that tries to talk to me. Until, that is, I do the job I signed up for.

I've been getting more popular recently, much to everyone's delight. I have a new customer today. I think his name is Hiroshi or something like that. He must be a good judge of character, because he picks up on my mood as soon as I begin talking. I've never even met the guy and he still somehow knows how I'm feeling.

"Hello," I greet.

"Hi, are you okay?" Hiroshi asks, blowing strands of shoulder length black hair from his face.

"Yes, I am. Thank you," I keep my cool, tapping my bare foot on the floor. "How are y-," I am cut off as the wind is knocked from me from behind. An arm wraps around my shoulders, but it is pulled away and replaced with two.

"So, Akira," I hear Hikaru in my ear. "We just wanted to know," Kaoru says, "If you're willing to talk to us for a moment?" Hikaru finishes. I relax under the comforting weight of their arms, all earlier thoughts of anger gone. No, I've pretty much burnt myself out for the day. Tomorrow, though...

I turn around in my chair, seeing identical faces covering most of my vision. I make out a little of Tamaki attempting to make Haurhi laugh in the corner, but pay it no mind.  
Thats not what's important now.

"Fine," I stand, pushing my chair back. "Excuse me," I acknowledge my guest. The redheads lead me to an empty corner, where their devil-may-care smiles are blinked away, replaced with looks of grim, cold, unemotional determination. One of them, Hikaru, I think, grabs my previously injured wrist and holds it to the light. The swelling has gone down, and the pain isn't nearly as bad, but it still has a blotchy bruise and I still wince when he grabs it so hard. He loosens his grip immediately, but his voice is still tight.

"What is this, Akira?" He asks as if he doesn't know.

"It's a hand, Hikaru," I respond coldly.

"I mean the bruise. Where'd you get it?" His eyes bore into me. I look to Kaoru for help, but get none. The younger twin isn't aiding his brother in my torture, but he's not openly opposing it either. Brushing thoughts of Kaoru's assistance off, I collapse in on myself.

Just tell him. It's not like Father can do it again. I'm free now. Well, I think as I remember Yuuichi, free of Father's wrath. I open my mouth, but tears spring to my eyes and I close it again. Open and closed, I continue like this for at least a full minute, watching their looks of exasperated, impatient, defiant expectancy. Finally, I dislodge the words from my throat.

"Hikaru, Kaoru, don't tell any of the hosts, okay?" I ask, and after affirming their consent, I begin my story.

"W- Well, ever since my sister Rio was born perfect, my father kind of ha- hated me. He'd slap me and he hates my s- stutter. Well, a few days ago, he asked me to go to... to this party to meet someone. I was really excited because that's usually Rio's job. Anyway, it t- turned out, I have to mar- marry...," I at this point, tears are streaming down my cheeks and I choke on my words. "I have to marry Kyoya's brother, Yuuichi. Just to get me away. He- He doesn't care about m- my happiness, and... and... he, well, I'm a first year, and Kyoya's brother is... well... Kyoya's brother."

I can't bear to say another word, as if not acknowledging it will make it go away. But as I say the words, as I spill my story and see the pity and terror unfold on their faces, I sob into my hands, noticing the shaky legs and pounding heart of a panic attack. I wobble, not bothering to catch myself, and slip on my socked feet as I hit the wall with my shoulder at an awkward angle. My feet fly from under me and I don't care. I just sit there, staining my dress's sleeves with wet tears. I gasp a breath as my lungs tighten, choking a little on inhaled tears.

"Akira? Akira!" I hear Haruhi calling faintly over the din in my brain. _Why does he hate me? What did I do wrong? Could I ever have changed it? Why marry me off now? Why, why, why!_

"Did anyone think to try the poem thing?" Tamaki asks, to much fumbling and someone calling for Kyoya, who does not seem to be around.

I gather my senses and wits about myself and rub my forearms across my eyes in what I imagine and hope to be a very adorable fashion. I do still have a job to do, so what's a little overkill?

"It's okay," I say in a shaky voice. "I'm fine n- now."

"Are you sure?" Tamaki asks, worried.

"Yes. I am," I say with watery confidence, standing. "I promise I won't do it again." With this, I shoot an icy glare at the twins, but immediately berate myself for it. It's not their fault I made a fool of myself. I finally notice the crowd of onlookers, and I blush at the attention, reaffirming myself that I'm okay.

Quite possibly, I'm lying to myself. But, really. Who cares at this point? When there's so much weight on my thin shoulders, who honestly cares that I'm all alone, crying inside myself, hating everything without a reason to hate it. This whole wedding, coupled with Daiki's death, Tomio's absence, Kyoya's distance, my worry Hikaru and Kaoru will tell someone, and duty all make me feel like... like... well, I can't describe it. It's sort of like... I guess I just don't deserve to be alive any more. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suicidal or anything. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up. Yeah, that's it. I want to sit here, blend into the shadows, and be forgotten.

 **Sorry about the OOCness! I don't think Akira would really tell Kyoya to shut up, but hey. When you're angry at your love-**

 **Akira: "Love? Who said anything about love?"**

 **Kyoya: "Well..."**

 **Akira: "Now's not the time, Kyoya. Next chapter, maybe?"**

 **Kyoya: "Very well."**

 **Anyway... no spoilers or anything. Peace!**


	27. Remember Me, Yellow Rose

**Prepare your tears. I was crying the whole time I was writing this.**

Daiki's memorial. I'm surprised; it's not lavish in the slightest. In fact, it looks like a commoners' memorial. Not that I hate commoners or anything, it's just that Daiki goes... went to Ouran, so I assumed he was wealthy. I voice this thought to my companion.

"You didn't know?" Tomio asks, staring straight ahead. "Daiki went there on a scholarship."

"Scholarship? For what?"

"Technology. He's... was... an amazing hacker. That's how he found your phone number. I put it into my phone too."

"Oh..." I trail off. I didn't know that.

"Yeah. Once," Tomio chokes up, "Once, he spammed the Italian Embassy with cat memes for weeks."

"That sounds just like him," I comment, piking at my black dress's skirt.

It's the first time I've seen Tomio since the day before his phone call. He didn't come to school, and he didn't come here with his parents. I sneaked out of the Ootori house, screw it if they don't know where I am. We're both actually supposed to be in school now - second period, I believe - but Daiki is more important than a couple classes. The memorial service is actually over now, and we're the only ones still sitting in the pews staring at the little shrine they put up around where his ashes were placed on a pedestal. The urn is gone now, but the frame of flowers and candles and stupid, material things still remains.

Tomio reaches down his shirt and slips something I didn't notice off his neck. I watch him as he grasps the thing, strides to the front, and places it carefully on the pedestal. I join him.

"What's that?" I look at the glimmering pendant, a tiny silver crescent.

"It's a friendship necklace." He looks at my confused expression, and explains, "A necklace that we both wear as a symbol of our friendship. You know, mostly for little kids. He gave it to me on my tenth birthday." The blonde points at a similar one layed across the pedestal, this one facing a different direction. "Two halves of a full thing. That's what it means. It just didn't seem right to keep wearing it after..."

"You said you had feelings for him," I ponder. "Did you really mean that?"

"Of course," Tomio says, a little offended. "I love him."

"Loved, you mean," I correct. "It's hard to love someone you can't be with."

"No, it's not. I love him, and I always will. That will never change, death or not."

"Do you ever think you'll get over him?" I ask quietly, eyes trained on the necklaces overlapping on the pedestal.  
"Not a chance."

Tomio and I returned to school for the last period and club activities. It probably isn't such a good idea to entertain guests right now, but I'm sure as hell not going back to the Ootori estate alone.

As I walk into the host club alone (Tomio went home after the service) I attract a lot of attention from my fellow hosts.

"Akira," Tamaki asks, worried as I approach his table. "Why are you late? You've never been late before." His loud voice and chipper nature manages to draw the gazes of the guests and hosts sitting near him. The twins stop in the midst of an act, Haruhi attempts to ignore the conversation but fails, and Mori and Honey look on silently, the blonde with a piece of cake suspended between his mouth and the plate.

"I'm sorry Tamaki-senpai," I apologize, not answering his question.

"Where's your uniform?" A guest asks. I blush, discreetly stuffing the black dress lower into my shoulder bag.

"Not here..." I trail off.

"Why?" The twins pipe up.

"I- I was at a memorial service," I finally admit.

"Aw, Akira! Who died?" Coos go around the room as they notice my genuine distress. This is no hosting act, and at least they're smart enough to pick up on that.  
"My friend. D- Daiki Yusimarea."

"He was in my class," A small second year says from just under where I stand. I look at her, and bite back a gasp. "Yes, I knew him." She states again.

"Leiko? You knew Daiki?" I ask her. She turns to face me.

"Of course. He and I were... we talked."

"Why did you laugh then?" I ask her coldly. This isn't the place for a conversation like this, but I don't care.

"Did I?" She ponders. I clench my jaw.

"Yes, you did. I got the phone call and you laughed." Whispers and looks of disgust are thrown Leiko's way. I don't know why, but I revel in this. It feels kind of good knowing that someone who laughed at Daiki's death is embarrassed. But... she doesn't look it. In fact, her smirk widens.

"So I did. Well, people die every day, you know. It's not that big of a deal."

"Are you crazy?" I question, quite loudly. Girls from all around the room quiet in their whispers. They're surprised, I realize with a jolt. I suppose I am too. Anger isn't something I'm used to in myself. Then again, neither is grief.

"Yes, In fact. I am," Leiko says with yet another laugh, standing. "They don't call me the Soul Queen for nothing."

"Who calls you that?" I ask, genuinely interested.

"Well, only myself really."

"Okay, fair enough," I reason.

"Oh, my princesses," Tamaki stands. "Stop fighting, please. It pains me to see two beautiful ladies arguing like this." I blush and Leiko rolls her eyes at him. Then, with a flip of her hand, Leiko strides from the room. I am left shaken and a little bit angry.

-()-

When all the guests are gone, the club practically attacks me.

"Akira, we're sorry about your friend."

"Are you going to be okay, Aki-chan?"

"It's okay to cry, you know."

"Please," I shut them up. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. I promise."

Tamaki, who had been seeing guests out, comes running over an jumps on Kyoya. The blonde whispers something in his ear. Kyoya relays the message to Mori, and he to Honey, and Honey to the twins, who smirk and answer in silent voices. The last time they talked to each other behind my back, we hosted a ball. I suppose this can't be much worse, but there's really no telling.

 **Next chapter is going to be very, very interesting.**

 **Also, I have a challenge for you guys. If you can guess who Leiko is, (No, she's not from another anime, she's original. I mean who she is relative to Akira. Warning: Leiko is not a supernatural anything. She's just really creepy and lucky. xD) I will write a sequel after Ouran Infiltrated is finished. I may do that anyway, but PM me if you want to guess. If you couldn't tell, I'm really bad at keeping her secret.**

 **I'm also taking requests for mini-chapters now. PM me an idea you have for a mini or if you want to see Akira do something embarrassing xD. Let's torture her all we can before it's all gone, okay?**


	28. Involving Sleeping with Boys

**Warning: I may not post for a while because I will be in jail for exceeding legal cute limits. (JK, I'll post just as much, I'll smuggle my computer in, somehow.)**

I follow Kyoya off the doorstep, across the drive and to the open door of the shining black limo parked in front of the Ootoori house. A red haired head pops out of the door and beckons us quickly inside. I slide on to the leather seat after Kyoya. It's very spacious in here, enough to seat the whole club. No one questions why I was at Kyoya's house. They must not think it's that weird. I silently thank them.

"Where are we going?" I ask, tired of being kept in the dark like this.

"Well, there's this one day festival in my neighborhood park and I thought you could use the distraction," Haruhi says.

"That's thoughtful," I say, touched. I sober a little when I remember what I need a distraction from. Poor Daiki. Hikaru and Kaoru give one another a not so thinly veiled smirk and Hikaru says,

"I really wanted to spend time with you, though, Kaoru." He touches his twin's face lovingly.

"There aren't any guests here, you guys. You don't have to do that act," Haruhi says, annoyed.

"Who said it was an act?" They say in unison. I blush.

"Excuse me, Master Hitachiin," the chaffer says, rolling the soundproof window down, his eyes on the road. "I need directions to where I'm taking you."

"Oh, yeah. I think it's on Starlight Lane," Kaoru says. Hikaru nods hs agreement.

"Wait, that's not where I live!" Haurhi says, exasperated.

"Isn't that the bad side of town?" Honey asks from underneath Usa-chan. I cock my head expectantly at the twins' matching smirks and ask the one question we are all thinking.

"So, where are we going?"

-()-

We finally park in front of a brightly lit building. People trickle in and out of it, laughing and talking and consuming. I feel my heart pound with the number of them. There are so many! I stick my head out the window and loud music reaches my ears. The scent of alcohol and grease permeates the air. I brush my hair from my eyes and pull my head back through the window.

"What is this?" Haurhi asks, angry.

"Festivals are so boring," Hikaru starts.

"We decided to take you guys to our favorite hang out spot," Kaoru finishes with a widening smirk. The twins practically push all of us out of the car, and I nearly fall on the curb. Next to me, I meet a worried glance from Kyoya with a reassuring smile. The twins assure again and again that it'll be fun and usher us past the line and through the door.

"Name?" The bouncer says in a monotone voice.

"We're the Hitachiins," the twins say in unison. The bouncer alerts, looks them over, and apologizes. He inspects the rest of us one by one, then singles out the oldest of the group.

"Oh, Hitachiin brothers. Go on in. And remember, we're not responsible for any medical bills."

Honey hugs his bunny in nervousness and I bite my lip. The twins usher us past a curtain and into the club.

A dull, half gasp half scream leaves my throat, and I unconsciously cling to the closest person, who happens to be Mori. There are so many people. They sit around tables and weave in between. I see a small stage. A karaoke club? I can smell the sweat and desperation. It's horrifically oppressive. How do people like this kind of thing? Well, I suppose I could see it. Perhaps a desire to drink their emotions away or a good time with friends, both of which I can understand better than anyone.

Hikaru and Kaoru disappear into the crowd. Mori cradles Honey against his leg and wraps a protective arm around me. Petrified, I cling to his shirt, watching the entire host club in silence. Tamaki is clutching at Haruhi's shoulders, and the girl is radiating disgusted anger. Kyoya is standing silent, sneaking surreptitious glances at his friends from behind his glare reflecting glasses.

"Well," Kyoya says, making for his pocketed phone. "I can have a car sent out to pick us up."

"Should we stay?" Tamaki asks hesitantly.

"No," Mori says resolutely, clutching both me and Honey tighter. I realize he's not just Honey's protector, he's the whole host club's. It's honestly the first time I noticed distinct roles.

While Kyoya makes sure the Host Club doesn't get financially hurt, (He's also good to talk to, but he'd probably deny it if I told him.) Mori makes sure no one gets physically, mentally, or psychology hurt. Haruhi is probably the most responsible, making sure Mori only has to do his job on rare occasions. The twins have good intentions, usually; they're just trying to have a good time. Honey is like a secret weapon. Whenever Mori isn't there, Honey is. And I... I am the one they're always looking out for. I may be a conditional liar, but I can't stand debt, and this is debt in it's most sacred form.

"If you guys want to stay, I think we should," I say determinedly, detatching myself from Mori's shirt. "We may as well have fun while we're here."

"Are you sure?" Kyoya asks, giving me a worried glance.

"Of course. Let's enjoy ourselves. And make sure the twins don't blow anything up."

-()-

I find myself seated at a high wooden table with Haruhi and Honey. The twins are no where to be found and Tamaki, Kyoya, and Mori have gone to get something to drink, and in Honey's case, a snack. When they finally return, each with beverages filling their hands and Mori balancing some kind of chocolate brownie dessert on his elbow, I end up scratching at the wooden grains and stirring my straw in my drink. Some drunk is on the stage shouting a completely different song than what he chose. A couple college students at a table next to ours are cheering him on. I sigh.

"Guys, can we go?" Haurhi says, irritated.

"We have to keep an eye on the twins," Tamaki says. "And don't you want to sing a song?"

"Not a chance, Tamaki-senpai." That comment starts Tamaki on a very loud rant about how he wants to see his darling daughter sing a song for him. The rest of us simply ignore him. We get enough of this at the club.

"Where did Hikaru and Kaoru go, I wonder?" Kyoya ponders. I cock my head at him.

"Who knows? But they're not going to be back anytime soon." I laugh.

"I suppose," He sobers and lowers his voice. "Do you want to leave?"

"I will if you want to, but if you want, you should stay and have fun," I smile. Kyoya's expression softens a bit and he nods once in agreement. I allow myself a pang of triumph. They don't need to look after me forever.

-()-

It's been about an hour or so and everyone's getting sort of restless. The twins haven't shown back up, so Mori is off searching the club for them, most likely unsucessfully, if the past forty-five minutes are any indication.

Put together, the entire host club has gotten a billion or so requests to dance, give or take. Due to Tamaki's revised declaration (The previous one is to make very girl happy, but that was changed.) of "It's a host's job to make every guest happy!" and his insistence that every person who asks to dance turns magically into a guest, there have been more than a few dances. Mine total three and Tamaki is off on his tenth. My glance catchs a girl making her way shyly over to the table, eying Kyoya as she gets closer. I shift my gaze to the table.

"Oh, hey," a voice says. I look up, seeing matching faces and strawberry hair. "You're still here?"

"Where have you been? We were waiting for you." Haurhi says accusingly.

"Oh, off. Are you ready to go?"

"We've been ready since we arrived," Kyoya states dryly. "Let's get Mori and Tamaki and we can go."

We are in the car within five minutes. I rest my chin on my knees, clutching my denim pants, and give a yawn. I didn't really know how late it is, and I haven't really been sleeping well either. I drop my head into my knees and close my eyes. They burn when I slide my lids shut. I wince, allowing myself to sleep. I know I won't be able to doze for long - the ride isn't more than ten minutes. It's still the best sleep I've ever had.

-()-

When I wake, I immediately pretend I'm asleep again. Kyoya caries me bridal style, his arm looped under my knees and one propped under my shoulders. My head rests on his chest. Feeling a little guilty about making him carry me, I open my eyes.

"Kyoya?" I ask sleepily. I want desperately to collapse into bed, but just the thought of doing that next to Yuuichi makes me alert once again. I try to wiggle out of Kyoya's hold, but he doesn't seem to notice. He climbs the stairs with me in his arms and places me in the hallway between Yuuichi's bedroom and his own.

"Good night," he wishes before sliding into his bedroom and closing the door. I open Yuuichi's, and upon seeing he's already asleep, change into my pyjamas in the adjacent bathroom. I perch on the edge of the bed, not even having the strength to lay down. Not next to him. It just feels... wrong, somehow, like I'm lying. I know I'm not though, because I... well... I... I don't really have anyone to lie to. I tap my bare foot on the hardwood floor restlessly, then get up and pace around in the darkness. My feet find the door on their own in less than a minute, and I'm gone from the room.

I don't know where I expect to go, but I end up there, knocking timidly and quietly. My hand that hangs limply at my side clenches in a nervous fist, then relaxes again when the door finally opens. Kyoya looks a little surprised to see me. Still, he beckons me inside, and when I scurry in, closes the door.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" The vice president asks suspiciously.

"I- I couldn't sleep," I say, my eyes on the hardwood floor. Without a word, Kyoya goes to his bed and sits down, patting the spot next to him in invitation for me. I accept it graciously, leaning a little on him in exhaustion. All the lost sleep is finally catching up to me.

"If you want, you could sleep in here."

"Huh?" I startle, then fix myself. "Oh, um. Yeah. Can I?"

In response, Kyoya gathers a blanket from under his bed and throws around my shoulders. "You're tired, you need the rest."

So, without a second thought, I curl on to his mattress, sinking immediately into a deep sleep. However, just before I drift off, I can swear I feel Kyoya place a comforting arm around my shoulders and mutter something in my ear, which makes me smile. Although I know I'll never be able to recall those words because they were lost to the tide of sleep, I also know just as surely that I'll never forget them.

 **Ooooooooh. What do you think he said to her? 3**


	29. Cry Me an Ocean

**Heh. As I'm writing this A/N, my mom is discussing the consumption of soba noodles with my sister. I'm over here yelling Ouran quotes (Now, watch as we work together to eat soba!) xD**

 **Warning: Unnecessary amounts of sad.**

"Kyoya? Kyoya? Hello?" I am woken by a loud, insistent knocking at the door. It stops only when the door creaks open. I crack my eye, not moving, rather listening to the conversation between the host and the knocker.

"Yes, Fuyumi?" Kyoya asks.

"Father says he wants to see you and Akira."

"Very well. I'll be there in a moment."

"Have you seen Akira around?"

"I'll inform her. Thank you, Fuyumi," Kyoya says, closing the door. Only when he sits on the edge of the bed again do I flip the borrowed blanket off me and cross my legs on his mattress. I blush when I realize I'm in Kyoya's room. What will his family think? And, stars forbid, did he expect something?

"Go get dressed," Kyoya says shortly. I nod and hurry from the room on silent feet, forcibly pushing those rather awkward thoughts from my mind. Yuuichi has abandoned the room, but I still change in the adjacent bathroom just to be safe. When I'm done, I rejoin Kyoya in the hallway, smoothing down my dark hair and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. He leads the way silently to a room that I've never been in before, knocking. He whispers a few words to me about keeping my head high and being respectful, most of which I just nod at. Finally, he opens the door and steps inside. I let it swing closed behind me.

We are in an office, a large one, with a huge desk and an enormous bay window at one end. Behind the desk, Mr. Ootori duly sits, his hands folded regally on his lap and his desk neat despite stacks of papers. As Kyoya and I approach him, he takes a manilla folder from the depths of a drawer and slaps it on his desk.

"Kyoya," he says coldly, slowly. "What is in this folder?"

In response, Kyoya takes the folder and paws through it, turning paler and paler with each paper. I can see unspoken words on his lips, his eyes masked with the white glasses glare that I have come to know as his veiled expression.

"What is it, Kyoya?" I ask gently, placing a hand on his arm and standing on my toes to see over his shoulder. At my gesture, he slams the folder shut and places it on the table, all the while fixing his face to the stony, neutral expression he wears while talking to someone he doesn't particularly like.

"Do you understand, Kyoya?" The Ootori head asks. My friend, after a pause, says in a very strained voice an affirmation.

"Understand what, sir?" I ask Mr. Ootori, agitated at being kept in the dark.

"Akira, you will be an Ootori soon. My son knows I do not tolerate insolence or foolishness in my family. Both of you," at this point, his voice hardens considerably. I take a step back. "Both of you need to focus on your studies. Kyoya, you need to impress me. Akira, you need to learn to be a woman. Do not waste your time creating false friendships and pretending to be something you're not!"

"I- I still don't understand. What is it you want?" I ask quietly. No. I know what you're going to say. Please, don't.

"I know about your affairs at that Host Club of yours, and I don't want either of you participating in such tomfoolery."

"But, sir," Kyoya says, little bits of desperation seeping into his calm voice. "You told me once to befriend Tamaki Suoh and this is the outcome. Would you have me jeopardize our business with his family?"

"I do not care," Ootori says coldly. "Tamaki Suoh is not an honorable heir, and therefore I have lost interest in his trust. Follow my orders, Kyoya."

"Very well, sir," Kyoya says, keeping his chin high. His voice is lowered in defeat, and that jolts me from my icy, numb shock. "We will leave the club."

My mouth opens, and I look between Kyoya and his father, the father that gets everything. Why should he, really? Why does he have to have control over every aspect of his sons' lives? In what world is that fair?

With that bomb, Kyoya takes my elbow harshly and marches me out the door, down the hall, and back to his room. Once inside, he closes and lock the door. I am silent, standing there unsteadily. You should have fought back, Kyoya. Why didn't you? Why didn't you save us both? You could have stopped this. And now... A realization hits me with alarming speed, bringing a heart pounding, knee knocking panic attack upon me.

And now, I'm back to where I was before I fell into the music room.

"Kyoya," I state, barely more than a whisper. I can't even hear myself over my beating heart. Why is it still beating? "You- You- You didn't fight back."

"I know, Akira," he says, defeated, dropping on to his bed. "I know I didn't."

"You could have." I slide down the door and rapidly twirl my hair over my fingers. "You could have saved us."

"But I didn't."

"Why not?"

"I... I don't know." He sighs. I realize that the Shadow King, my Sunlight King, is actually feeling uncertain about himself. "I should have, Akira, and now it's all gone. The Host Club is gone now, and there's nothing we can do."

"I'm sure there must be something we can... do... This can't be the end," I say distantly. Even before the words leave my mouth, I know they're false. This is the end. The end of all my adventures with my first friends. The first people that accepted me, even though I lied to them.

I lied.

"Kyoya," I call. When the word is met with silence, I continue. "When I joined the club, you said you host to make every girl happy."

"Yes," he confirms. "We're not hosts any more though."

"No," I agree. There goes that. My only idea. My last resort, gone. "Kyoya, how are we going to face them?"

"I don't know." His voice is muffled, and I stand up. Kyoya is stretched out on his bed, his face buried in a pillow and his glasses folded on the night stand. Of course, Kyoya's been in the club a lot longer than I have. He's parting with his whole social life. His best friends ripped away all at once. This is a nightmare for him, and I'm standing here blaming him. So, I force him to dislodge his face from the pillow. Once I do, I nearly drop his chin. His face is streaked with tears. He's crying. At the sight, I feel a tear leak out of my lashes, followed by a couple more.

There's nothing we can do, except cry.

 **...**

 **...**

 **...**

 **Kyoya cries. Nothing more needs to happen now. No more emotion today. I'm done.**


	30. Blood Runs Cold

**Guys. You guys have to know this. Ready? Okay, when I chose the character names, I made a little puzzle that I'm going to reveal for you now.**

 **Akira's name means bright, clear, or intelligent. I originally intended her to be more like Kyoya, but... you know... she has her moments.**

 **Tomio means 'wealthy man'. This was never mentioned, but his family runs a small time resteraunt that's a front for an unfair gambling ring. Shhhhhh.**

 **Daiki means 'big tree' I chose this because he is Tomio's oldest friend and old trees are big trees... it makes sense to me...**

 **And finally, Leiko means 'arrogant'. This comes into play in one of the next few chapters. Leiko Rin will surprise you. She's a lot creepier and crafty then you may think. xD**

 **Anyway, I'm done now.**

I haven't gone to school in a week. Every day since I was forced to leave the club, I take my shoulder bag packed with a change of clothes, a sandwich, and a wad of bills I have yet to put a dent in and walk from the Ootori mansion three miles to the public library. There, I change into my casual clothes and ignore everyone. Now, I wander the three floor complex, trying in vain to not think about the wedding I'm having this Saturday and that right now it's Friday.

I seat myself in a window sill, my foot propping my body inside the nook and my head against the glass. I look down to the sidewalk two stories below me. How easy it would be to just unlatch the window and fall down. So simple to just be forgotten, to fade to dust and the darkest shadows of memory. The thought of not being alive any more terrifies me, but also sort of calms me. I imagine drifting in a sea of darkness, free from everyone that's tried to hurt me. Then again, as I've learned the hard way, is anyone ever really free?

I sigh, shake these thoughts from my head, and take out my phone. Bored, I kick my shoes off my heels and curl my toes around the edge of the window sill. I quickly put them back on as I realize the time. I should have been walking back five minutes ago.

The thing about skipping school is the time. You have to leave at the exact same time and get back home exactly when you would usually get home. It's a delicate thing, trickery. One slip up can ruin everything, something I learned the hard way, a long time ago when I skipped a day of middle school and didn't have an excuse for why I was an hour late coming home. It goes without mention that I saw stars that night.

I run to make up for the lost time, but when I reach a mile, I have to stop and catch my breath. I end up speed walking the rest of the way. When I finally reach the Ootori estate, Kyoya is just closing the front door behind him. I don't know where he goes, or if he even goes to school at all, but I've barely seen him in a week. I have reached the conclusion that whatever we had before was simply a misunderstanding.

I slip through the door, hefting my schoolbag on my shoulder. There are sounds, loud conversation, to be exact, coming from the dining room, so I drop my schoolbag and shoes off before peeking hesitantly around the doorframe. I immediately regret the action.

Around the table stand Yuuichi, Mr. Ootori, a couple of strange people, and my father. I hitch in my breath, and they all look up from a sheaf of papers spread over the tabletop. My father meets my gaze steadily, and I drop it to the tiled floor.

"Ah, ladies," Mr. Ootori says to a couple women chatting further away from the group. "This is the bride."

"Tsk, tsk," One scolds, giving me a once-over. I shuffle my feet. "She's smaller than you said."

"Lift your head, girl," A second woman says, leading her group over to me. "This is your wedding. Show it!"

"I- I'm sorry," I apologize, shakily lifting my chin to meet her gaze. I find myself a few inches taller than her, and that fact allows me to straighten my shoulders a little.

"Don't apologize. Show some self-confidence!" The first berates. I open my mouth to apologize again, but quickly snap it shut.

"Tsk," the third woman says. "She's an impossible case."

"We better be payed a lot for her," the first says. I bite my lip.

"Can you put on an act, girl?" The second woman asks, peering down her nose at me, which must not be a very easy task, as she has to look up to meet my eyes. Still, I feel my lips lift up in a smirk. I can definitely do that.

"Of course, ma'am," I assure, straightening my spine and gliding confidently into the room. "It is my wedding, after all. What's not to be excited about?" I imagine a glimmer in my eye, and bite my tongue to hold back a wince at my own words. Everything, my inner voice answers. I tell it to shut up and act like I'm having a good time.

"So," I ask, hanging on to Yuuichi's elbow. He glances between me and the three women, seemingly surprised in my sudden dramatic personality change. "What are you working on, Yuuichi?"

"Well," Yuuichi answers, recovering quickly. "Right now, it has something to do with colors."

"Oh?" I ask, gazing at the papers, pretending to be interested. "That's interesting."

"Not really," Yuuichi mutters. The way he says it makes me realize for the first time he may hate this arrangement just as much as I do. That would be a very good plot twist, if Yuuichi had half a mind to defy his father as I do. I let go of his arm and gaze up at him (He's about a head and a half taller than me) and stand on my toes to whisper in his ear.

"Can I talk to you in private?"

"Of course," my fiance answers quietly. Then, to our fathers but not to either one in particular, he asks to be excused. Without waiting for an answer, he follows me out of the dining room and into the quiet entry hall. I pop my head back into the crowded dining room and release a breath of tension I didn't know was curled in my chest. Finally, after a pause, I begin my question.

"Yuuichi. May I ask you a question?"

"I believe you already did. But you may ask another," The Ootori heir says sarcastically. I allow myself a smile at his joke, but continue onwards with my question.

"Okay, then. Do you, maybe... What I mean is... do you want to marry me?" I ask with a blush, not able to meet his steely gray eyes. That actually came out more desperate than I intended, but he gets the gist.

"There is no right answer to this question is there?" He asks after a shocked pause.

"Oh, no, there is. It just may not be what you're expecting," I answer with a friendly smirk. He sighs.

"Very well. I do not," Yuuichi says. He runs a hand down his face. "I apologize, Akira. I don't mean you any offense, of course."

"None taken," I respond, surprised. "Not to pry, but, why?"

"Do you really want to know?" He asks. I nod vigorously. I have to know why the man who is infamous for his cold heart is so against a union with me. Is it because I'm too young, or perhaps he knows of someone who could make him richer? Or maybe, he... no. I doubt that.

"Very well," Yuuichi pauses, sighs, rubs a nonexistent smudge from his glasses, runs his fingers through his raven hair, and finally continues. "I am in love, in fact. My lover has expressed great distress at our engagement and has gone missing. I have not seen her in more than a week and I fear..." He drops his head into his hands, his shoulders hunched. I stumble back a step, taken aback. The cold hearted heir to the Ootori fortune is gone. Yuuichi is now simply a lovesick little boy. Much, in fact, like me.

"Yuuichi," I say hesitantly. I don't really know how to comfort him. Then, just as it's getting a little bit awkward, he straightens and fixes his composure in the blink of an eye.

"Akira," Yuuichi says. "I know you're in love with my younger brother." I open my mouth to deny this, but he cuts me off. "We can marry as lovers to the public, but can we stay friends in private? I promise I will not intrude on your personal life if you do not intrude on mine. Do we have a deal?" He offers me his hand to shake like a business offering, and without another word, I take it.

Perhaps this wedding won't be the end of the world after all.

-()-

"Akira, you're back. May I talk to you?" My father says as soon as I reenter the room. My soaring heart falls like an injured bird. I wince as my father leads me around and back out into the hall.

"Yes?" I keep an icy resolution to my voice.

"Akira, my daughter," my father says. "Will you ever forgive me?"

"Excuse me?" I question. Is this some kind of cruel joke?

"I've hurt you so many times, my little girl. You've come to hate me, and I see that now. How... How can I ever hope for your forgiveness?" He sobs, falling to his knees, begging. "Please, my beautiful girl, please. There is no way I can repay you. I'm so, so sorry."

"I- I don't understand," I state. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to be my heir again. I want... I want my little girl back."

"Sir, are you..." I take a step back as my father (who is making quite a fool out of himself) crawls closer to my shins. "Are you really asking for me back?"

"Yes!" He pleads. "Yes, Akira, I am."

This is my chance. The way I see it, now I have three options. The first is to stand in the hall the way I am now, my mouth open and not quite processing what it is he's saying. The second is to accept his offer and gain what I've always wanted growing up; a family that will truly love me. But, this option seems too surreal now, too unreachable. The third is to leave my father feeling the same way I did. Alone, unloved, rejected. So, I allow him to crawl closer, to plead, clutch my jeans and cry for my forgiveness. I allow him to think about all the possibilities, about what could happen if I accepted him the way he never did me. I allow him all these things. Then, I wrench my leg from his grasp, swing it back, and kick him in the nose with my heel. Then, as he looks at me with pain clouded eyes, I turn my back on him and proceed up the stairs, leaving a pinprick of blood that diminishes with each step I take away. Away I go reveling in the pleasure of revenge.

 **And suddenly, Akira has a revenge complex. Whoa. I did a character twist.**

 **Awwww, my little girl has grown up so much... :3**


	31. Mini 3 - Tickle Wars

**Ohhh, two chapters and a mini in one day! You guys are lucky (that I have no life...).**

I carry a tray full of empty tea cups past Mori and Honey's table, and stop. From the few bits of conversation I catch, this is interesting. Very, very interesting. So very interesting, in fact, that Mori has a smile lighting his stony eyes (but, of course, not on his mouth) and Honey has stopped stuffing his face, his high pitched laughter ringing about the room. I deposit the teacups in their rightful place to be washed later, and scurry over to see what it is that's so funny.

"You're serious?" A blonde third year asks. "That would be so cute!"

"I can't get the thought out of my head!" A brunette exclaims, clasping her face with her hands. Both girls clasp hands and squeal, clenching their eyelids closed in sheer joy. I recognize the look as 'fangirling about the yaoi'. This intrigues me. The only times I see this look around the club is when Tamaki fauns over Haruhi, the twins are deep in an "act," and when Kyoya and the Host King are immersed in a private, whispered conversation.

"Hello," I greet, cocking my head and ignoring the customary blush that accompanies talking to a new person. "What are you talking about?"

"Honey-senpai says Mori-senpai is ticklish!" The blonde laughs. The brunette is incapacitated by a fit of giggles and unable to respond.

"They have," Giggle. "Tickle wars!" The brunette finally manages between her laughter. My imagination as a girl kicks in, and I know exactly what they want to see. So, I decide to indulge them in some fanservice and push my acting skills to the limit. I glide over to Mori and brush my hair out of my eyes. Then, I arrange my skirt and, in an extreme display of bravery, I sit on his lap. My knees are practically straddling the older boy's hips, and while he is stunned at my sudden change, I pin his arms over his head. Then, I give him a devilish smirk worthy of the twins themselves, and attack his ribs.

Whomever's attention wasn't already captured by my rather sensual display quickly divert their gaze to see what is making Mori laugh. No one, I doubt even the Host Club, has heard him laugh before. It's a throaty sound, deep and warming. He squirms under me and, after a few seconds, dislodges me, flipping me on to the couch in between him and Honey.

A smile still stretches his cheeks, the residue of his violent laughter. Finally, Honey's giggles fill the silence, followed by mine. Then, the rest of the hosts join, finally everyone in the room is laughing. A smile still lights the stoic boy's eyes, existing only there. Once the laughter dies down and everyone goes back to their conversations, I make a suggestion.

"You should laugh more often, Mori-senpai."

 **So, I've discovered I really like putting the hosts in situations that require them to do something out of character, like Mori laughing or Kyoya crying. Suggest more, please, if you want to see more.**

 **For you people who like Akira, thumbs up for her acting skills, eh? Sitting on his lap, good or bad? (I need guidelines of what you like!)**


	32. Two Words

**Guys. The emotion. It's so, so real.**

I sit in a spare room in the Ootori mansion staining the beautiful wood of a desk with tears. If the handmaid that was doing my makeup a moment ago saw me in such a state, she would have my head. But I can't really think about that. All the brain power I have to spare is consumed with the one cycling thought.

I'm marrying a man I promised I'd never love.

I guess it's not really the doomed love part, it's the fact that I'll never really be able to get married. I suppose I could fall in love, but I'll never be able to really honor that love. I'll have to assume they'll understand, and that's really all conditional.

"Miss Helleusa?" The handmaid reenters the room, carrying a hairbrush, a box of pins and, to my surprise, a bouquet of roses. Yellow roses. My spine straightens at the sight. Yes, I will truly be a host the whole way down. I will clutch it to my heart and carry it with pride. I am not your bride, Yuuichi Ootori. I am Tamaki Suoh's shy host. I am a part of a team and I will be for every moment I am a Helleusa. But, then again, there's always the moment I have to hand my roses away. the moment I am no longer Akira Helleusa, the shy type. My heart trembles.

"Oh, Mistress." the handmaid says, dabbing my face with a cloth. "You've ruined your makeup."

"No makeup," I protest. With a sigh, the woman starts pinning my hair back from my face. I swat her hands away and shake my hair in its natural place over my shoulders. I pluck a pin from over my ear and hand it gracefully back to her with a cute smile that feels wrong on my face.

"Fine, fine. Have it your way," she says angrily, slamming the brush down on the desk. "Come over here and let's get you in to your dress."

The aforementioned dress is a simple white skirt that flares over my hips and hangs hesitantly about halfway over my shins. The shining material wraps to the left around my torso and ends in puffy sleeves that hang off my shoulders and a wide boat neckline. It looks good on me. Natural.

"Where did you find this?" I ask the handmaid.

"It was sent by a private company. Oh, I almost forgot," she says, fetching something from a distant table. "This came with it." The brunette lady hands me a crystal vase overflowing with nothing but roses. Pink, white, orange, blue, black, purple and golden. A note hangs from the lip of the crystal, written in shining black ink in spidery handwriting. It reads, "For Akira Helleusa. You have earned your place at that table". It's what Tamaki said to me on the beach in Okinawa what seems like a lifetime ago. I still have a small scar on my right hand from where I was beating it against the rock. After I get over the initial heartache, reality sets in.

The hosts know, don't they?

-()-

"Come, come, no! Where is she? No, put that over there. AND FIND AKIRA!"

"She's over here!" A man invades my personal space, and grabs my elbow. Without a word, he leads me down a hall, past my father's stony gaze and out the front door to a waiting limousine. He pushes me inside, hands me the yellow rose bouquet which had, at some point, been tied with a white ribbon, flashes me a smile, and slams the door shut. The limo rolls away from the Ootori mansion.

It's not far to the grand church, and when we arrive, my leg is sore from tapping it anxiously against the floor. I slip my pristine white high heel shoes on as the chauffeur pulls open my car door and ushers me out. I can feel my face redden as he leads me up a set of stairs and to a porch in front of closed doors. My fingers tighten around the roses, and I wince. My finger digs in to a thorn that someone forgot to cut off. I dig it in further. Forget about the heartache and focus on this tiny pinprick of pain. Focus on the blood welling up on my fingertip. I wipe away a tear that appeared on my cheek and swallow past the lump in my throat.

My father climbs the steps to the porch, and without a word, thrusts his elbow out at me. I take his arm hesitantly, waiting for a slap or a harsh whisper of 'Don't embarrass me', but it doesn't come. I recall my father begging my forgiveness, sniveling on the floor. And I have to ask.

"Sir," I ask meekly. "Why... If you'll forgive my prying, why did you ask my forgiveness?"

"Akira," He says. "It's because I love you. You're my daughter, my heir. I made a mistake that I will never be able to atone for."

"You could have said that before," I mention, biting my lip to keep from saying anything that I may regret. "You know, before you started hitting me."

"I'm sorry, Akira."

"I'm not." I state. I take a look at his face and note a faint bruise on his nose, badly covered with concealer. Against my will, a spark of pride ignites my heart. I feel my lips twist into a cold smile that immediately falls as music reaches my ears through the door. My father checks a watch fastened to his wrist. I watch over his arm as the second hand ticks downward for thirty counts. Then, he places a gloved hand on the door and swings it open.

Dozens of sets of eyes turn to me. My knees give way under me, but my father pulls me up by my elbow and rights me. Sweat mingles with a tiny trickle of blood on my hand and stings the wound. I gasp in a breath and hold it for as long as I can. One step, two, three four. Just like dancing. Four steps and then stop, down the carpeted aisle with so many eyes on my back. I take another breath, another eight steps, and my father is gone. I am finally, finally, all on my own. My eyes find the yellow flowers in my hands. A petal dislodges itself from the bunch and floats to the ground as I stop at Yuuichi's side. The edges of a few in the middle are browning, the delicate petals turning in on themselves. I hand the flowers off with a sigh, locking my lips tightly together.

Before I turn away from the assembled and the music stops, I see my parents and across the aisle from them, Yuuichi's family. My eyes find Kyoya, and the browning yellow rose petal he must have picked up after I'd dropped it. He watches me with his careful steel gaze. I am reminded of when I joined the club. I can be anything you want me to be, I'd said. I've broken my promise. I can't be anything, not now. I can't be a host, and I can't be free. But I can, however, put on a good show. Right now, it's the only thing I can do. So I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin, meeting the pastor with a gaze full of thinly veiled anger that I want to show. I am angry, and everyone needs to know that this is wrong.

"Welcome," the man starts, his voice booming in the empty silence. "We are gathered here to honor the union of Ootori Yuuichi and Helleusa Akira as husband and wife. If anyone objects, speak up now or forever hold your peace."

Silence. I feel my father's eyes bore into me, daring me. Go on, do something. My last chance to get really lucky is slaughtered by emptiness. The last echo of the words fade into the cold, unwelcome quiet, and I hiss in a breath through my teeth.

"Very well. Now, Ootori Yuuichi, do you take Akira Helleusa as your wife, to love and to hold, in sickness and health. To share with her your happiness and wealth, to uphold these promises on the grounds of trust and companionship?"

I watch Yuuichi open his mouth without hesitation, and two words are uttered, two words that almost bring me to my knees. Two words said with confidence that ring around the chapel and echo in my ears, bouncing around in my skull that I know will change my life.

 **AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!**

 **Just wait.**

 **Just you wait.**


	33. An Ouran Host

**Guys, thank you so much for all the praise. I love you all so much! :D**

"I object!" The words spoken loudly, angrily, from the last people I expected to be here. Well, I contradict myself, they're the only people that could have been here.

My lucky break. My last chance. The plot twist.

The Host Club.

"We warned you, Helleusa," the Hitachiins say as they file in behind Tamaki, the speaker of the words. One of them produces a handheld camera and holds it up triumphantly as he strides down the aisle. I watch in awe.

"All of us know what you did," Haruhi says accusingly. Her eyes flash behind her chocolate hair.

"Aki-chan's dad is a bad person," Honey says firmly, his eyebrows drawn and clutching his Usa-chan close. Mori nods once in agreement.

"Everyone," Hikaru addresses the crowd, reaching the pedestal and hopping on to the first step, spreading his arms grandly. His brother brandishes the handheld camera. "We would like to show you a few pictures." A few buttons are pressed on the camera, and even I can tell what the display shows. It's a shadowy shot of me, scrabbling feet barely touching the floor, face twisted in pain as my father's fingernails dig into my scalp. It's from just before my father formally introduced me to Yuuichi. Everyone, every single person, including I, gasp.

"Akira," Haruhi turns to me, but speaks to the crowd. "Do you deny that your father abused you while you were under his care?"

Do I? Would I dare to disobey my father in the most permanent way? Would he do what he did again if I do? Obedience is ingrained so deeply into me, seared with a hundred slaps and a broken wrist. Can I so simply pull those hooks out? Or maybe, maybe now I don't have to bother with an act for the crowd.

"No. I don't, Haruhi," I answer, my voice shaking. Then, louder, I state, "No. My father abused me."

Silence. Apparently, they hadn't thought this far. No one dares make a move. My gaze scans the crowd. Just as the silence is getting unbearably awkward, two things happen one after the other. The first, Kyoya stands up and joins the hosts, facing down the crowd with determination. A few seconds later, a giggle echoes around the room. Following this giggle, and in the same voice, someone shouts out,

"I must say, I am impressed. But you boys have a lot to learn." It sounds from the back, that much is obvious. No one can seem to place exactly who said it, though. Then, as if appearing from thin air, a redhead girl is walking down the aisle, juggling two charms in her hands. Leiko Rin, of course.

"You need to work on your detective skills," she says, staring the hosts down. Then, after a pause, she snaps one of the pendants on to her leather bracelet, an ebony circle with a sapphire braid wrapping around it. "For example, I know what's hidden under the floorboards of the basement under the kitchen in the Helleusa manor."

At this point, my father stands from his seat, his face flaming red as Leiko's hair. "Leiko Kessikona," he says. Kessikona? "I told you to stay off my property. That's trespassing."

"Not really, Mister Helleusa," Leiko Kessikona, the daughter of my father's rival, says with a smirk. "You opened the door and let me inside."

"You were that maid!" He accuses, flustered.

"Indeed I was. I also have a camera in your office." Now, Leiko is speaking directly to my father, ignoring all other guests. "Noboru, since you already admitted to abusing your oldest daughter, do you admit to murdering your youngest in a fit of drunken rage?"

"You're crazy," my father growls. I feel my knees weaken. Logic tells me that Leiko hasn't been wrong yet, but my father? Murder his darling Rio? Impossible.

"Yes, I am," Leiko agrees with a customary smirk. "Insanity and genius usually goes hand in hand."

"You're wrong," Father says resolutely.

"Death always wins, Noboru. She always gets her price." The flaming redhead taps her wrist with the second pendant, a silver chain swinging from it. This she slips over her neck, and I can see it's a tiny rose, carved in emerald and lined with shining gold. I raise my eyebrow at it, but she ignores me. And Leiko walks back down the aisle and straight out the door with a wave behind her shoulder.

"Everyone," My father addresses the crowd. "I apologize for the interruption. That girl should be locked up. And these boys are merely my daughter's friends from school. We will show them out and continue with the wedding."

No. No! My lifeline, right here, and yet again my father will steal it away from me. A hand touches my shoulder, dragging down and hesitantly clasping my hand. On my other side, another set of fingers reaches directly for mine and grasps them firmly. I shoot my chin upward to see Kyoya on one side and Tamaki on the other, smiling reassuringly at me. I look past them and see none other than Mori, Honey, Hikaru, Kaoru, and Haruhi clasping their hands in a long chain of resolute determination.

"One," The twins say in unison, starling me. "Good looks that attract the public eye."

"Two," Kyoya says. "More wealth than you can imagine."

"Three," Honey says, his high voice deeper with determination. "Chivalry that cannot overlook-"

"-The hideous wickedness of this world," Mori finishes.

"Four," I say, finding my voice. The words that follow are half heart and half impulse. "A bond that will persevere through challenge."

"That's what makes an Ouran host," Tamaki says, loudly and resolutely.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we can't let this wedding happen," Haruhi states.

A tear leaks from my eyes. Yet again, I relied on them without even knowing it. Yet again they hold my hands, protecting me and loving me just for me. I realize now that that's all I wanted. What I wished for my whole childhood, a family that will love and accept me, I found when I feel into Music Room Three. I found my family, and they are here, fighting for me and supporting me where I am weak. I am weak, as we all are on our own, but the Host Club is a force to be reckoned with.

Eight pairs of eyes stare down my father, and, as we do, I can swear I can see something inside him break. His resolve, gone, and he quietly confesses into his hands, stuttering worse than I do. He tells us to go look in the basement, that it was an accident, that he's sorry. But I'm not. I can only feel elation, for finally, finally, my father is weak, and I am strong.

"Father," I say coldly. "Don't stutter. It's disgraceful."

As the Ootori's private police force hauls my father away, my knees finally give way and I fall to the ground, pulling Kyoya and Tamaki down with me, and they everyone else. Long story short, we end up in an eight way embrace, I in the middle, crushed (but in a good way) by my friends.

Friends.

 **I present to you, the job of an Ouran host.**

 **I've actually finished writing everything I'm going to post for this story but haven't posted it all yet, so stay tuned. Akira, Tomio, and Leiko have been crashing in my living room ever since and they don't know what to do with their lives. I sort of feel bad for them...**


	34. Miracles

**I've decided to go ahead and kill Ouran Infiltrated. I'm posting ever last chapter I'm going to post today.**

 **Without further ado, the latest plot twist. xD**

 **I just realized this plot is sooooooo curvy.**

I am in school once more. It feels good to return to this normalcy. Well, as you already know, reader of my life story, what I mean by normal is as normal as it gets around the Host Club. At this point, though, I'll go with anything they have planned. I'm in debt now, a debt I'll never, ever be able to repay. Not only for my freedom, but for their loyalty. As I click open the golden handles to the music room, and the sound echoes familiarly through the silence, I have an overwhelming sense of comfort, like I'm coming home. Which, of course, I am.

It's silent as soon as the echo fades out. I slip off my shoes and slide on socked feet over the pink tiles. There's still five minutes until everyone usually arrives, so I make for the couch. But something catches my eye. A small, red box sitting on the table. I skid over to it and pick it up, realizing it is a cell phone. My first thought is that someone must have left it. It must be a guest's. I flip it open to see if there's any identification on it. The screen blinks to life.

Nothing. It's a brand new phone. There is, however, a single flashing email light on the bottom. I maneuver the cursor to it, curious and forgetting about privacy and etiquette. Why would a brand new phone, with no contacts or apps, have an email set up? I nearly drop it when I see the message.

 _Akira Helleusa,_

 _How I know you'd be here now doesn't matter. Do not respond to this message, it won't do you any good. Now, I have something to tell you. I have bought your father's company, and have transferred all his assets to you, his rightful (and now only) heir. It's not my place to tell you what to do with your new fortune, but I'd like to make a request. Use the money to build an empire. Maybe you could use it to repay your debts. Either way, it's yours to do with what you will. Congratulations._

I know enough about computers to find my way to my father's company's website. It's gone. The website is gone. There is an error code stating that the domain has been compromised. Hacked, I think. Hacked and stolen. This is much too weird.

Is this just some kind of elaborate prank? Why go through all this trouble for a joke? Why go through all this trouble anyway? I don't hear them enter until they're right next to me.

"What are you looking at?" Tamaki inquires. I startle.

"Nothing. A guest left their phone is all." Lie. Another lie. I internally kick myself, and atone. "I mean, I found this phone here." Not a lie. Better.

"Do you know who's it is?" Kyoya asks. "We should return it to it's owner."

"No. It's brand new."

"Well, who's email are you looking at then?" Tamaki asks. I bite down on my lip. Of course. Look at the email of the sender. I glance at it. Darknessreborn666 . My brain singles out the numbers. 666. I've seen that somewhere before. Or heard it, maybe. I remember it's a bad omen of some kind, something occult. Yes, that's right! Occult. Nekozawa.

"Excuse me," I say to the second years. As I'm making my way to the huge black doors that lead to the Black Magic Club, I ignore the stares of the two presidents and the newly arrived fellow first years. I square my shoulders and knock loudly on the ebony barriers. After a couple seconds of tense waiting, the doors creak open and Belzenuf pops out.

"Nekozawa-senpai?" I call. "I need your help with something." I ignore Tamaki's wails of how evil Nekozawa is and how I should stay away from that cursed puppet. I can hear the Hitachiins snickering and imagine Haruhi's annoyance and confusion. I can also feel eyes on my back, and assume they're Kyoya's. Nekozawa pushes his veiled head from the dark crack and says nothing, but I know he's listening, so I ask my question.

"What does the number 666 mean in occult terms?"

"It is the number of demons," Nekozawa chuckles darkly. I doubt my next question is going to be useful to my dilemma, but I ask it to be safe.

"Is your email, maybe, Darknessreborn666 ?" I look at the glowing cellphone screen.

"Yes, it is," he says, confused. I look up in surprise. "But how did you know that?" Words choke in my throat, so I show him the email.

"Heh," he ponders. "I don't remember sending that." There's a pause, and Nekozawa slams the door in my face. I turn back towards the Club, all of whom have assembled and are staring at me questioningly, and explain. I start out knowing what I'm going to say, but shock steals my words and I end up showing them the mysterious phone. After reading it, Tamaki, Honey, and the twins start congratulating me. Haruhi and Kyoya share a confused look, obviously the only two who think that this isn't a miracle, but a mystery.

Then again, miracles do happen. I'd know.

 **How do you guys like my last chapter?**

 **Thank you so much for staying with Akira this whole way. We both appreciate it more than words can say.**


	35. Epilogue

For everyone else, graduation is a happy time. For everyone else, high school is done and they are finally preparing to take over their businesses or go to college in some far-off place. But someone already accomplished that for me, a long time ago in my first year. I have proof. I saved the email, just in case I ever found out who it was.

I sit in a seat, listening to all these emotional speeches and whatnot, thinking. This is probably the last time I'll see the Host Club. Honey, Mori, Tamaki, and Kyoya graduated already, but they still came to see me, Haruhi, Hikaru, and Kaoru off. We'll keep in touch of course, like any good friends will, but I'll only see Kyoya regularly for our dates. Honey and Mori are busy teaching martial arts and Tamaki is learning how to run a school without blowing it up. Kyoya, my Sunlight King, he's the vice president of the Ootori Group, youngest in his family's history (with, of course, his father the CEO).

Applause booms in my ears, and I tune in as I see Haruhi walk on the stage. She came out as a girl in our second year, but still ladies swoon over her. She ruffles her notes and leans in to the microphone, drawing out her valedictorian speech as much as possible. I haven't yet heard what she was planning on saying, but I knew it's big. And, just like everything the Club does, it doesn't disappoint.

"Ouran, I'm going to tell you a story. Once upon a time, my friend got an email. This email gave her a future. It changed her life. Although it was more than two years ago, we still don't know who sent it. It is kindness like this that makes a community. You are about to go build a community. Good luck." Her "speech" is short, barely more than a decent paragraph. Still, it ignites a spark in my soul, something deep inside of me, something I don't have a word for, and never will.

-()-

After the ceremony, the graduates spill out of the door, followed with the attendants, families, friends, and guests. There's nowhere much to be, and if there is, my friends are ignoring it to cherish our last moments together. Ever since they graduated, they've been coming down from the college to continue hosting until the rest of us graduate. But Haruhi was accepted into some big time American university, so Tamaki decided to disband the club, as it would never be the same. We all decided that club or not, we'd always be friends.

We lay in a field, a quiet place that I'd never known has existed. No one talks. No one needs to. No amount of hosting could ever prepare us for filling this silence. So the wind does it for us, screaming in our ears, slapping the grass against our legs and curling around my bare feet. I am suddenly reminded of what I said two years ago at my wedding. Four, a bond that will persevere through challenge. It makes sense now. Our bond, it's real. It's family.

"Akira!" I hear someone calling. I stand on my feet and see none other than Tomio running across the field towards me. He reaches me, and without a word, knocks the wind out of me in an embrace. He tells me about how his father is sending him off to Europe for a special boarding school and that he's not going to see me for a long, long time. Of course, of course. Tomio's leaving. Why not? Why no tear my life apart at the seams? I hug him tightly, studying his platinum blonde hair and his icy blue eyes. The last time I'll see him.

"Well, I have to go. But Leiko Kessikona told me she wanted to see you." And Tomio departs for the last time, only to be replaced with Leiko, walking the other way as if on cue. She's fingering her leather bracelet. She looks up at me through her fiery red lashes, and laughs. I only raise an eyebrow at her.

"You know, Akira, death always wins. She always gets her price." Leiko pauses, and looks at me strangely. Then, she says something I never expected I'd hear from her. "Would you like me to explain that?"

"Yes," I nod eagerly. This may be the last chance I'll get to truly understand the girl that uncovered my sister's murder.

"Well, death always wins. You know that. And her price? Akira, this is her price." She gestures to the ex-hosts sitting behind me, and she smirks. It dawns on me what she means, and I have no words for her cruelty.

"You... Oh."

 **Dun dun duuuuuuun...**


	36. Thirst - UPDATE

**This is not a chapter, more like a second epilogue, or a oneshot... Idk really. It's a thing.**

 **Well, I guess it's sort of like a teaser for a companion series (Ouran Compromised, if you will). I'll give you this if you want it. I still have plenty of plot twists and tears up my sleeve. PM or review your vote if you want this. Let's say, five votes yes and I'll give you a sequel.**

 **Enjoy.**

The chairman's son, Minato Souh, has a dream. His father tells him all about how he and his mother met, in a host club at this very school. He has photo albums that he made from the chairman's best friend's photo books. He talks about types and rose symbolism and friendship. Minato talks to his friends about how much he wants to continue his parents' legacy as the greatest hosts of all time. He says that his father still talks to all the great hosts, and he says that they all have children of their own now. Minato says that he and his brother, Ryouma Souh, are going to build back what their father did. He's determined to track down the children of the originals.

I find it funny, really, how he hasn't found anyone yet, poor fool. He has the passion, and Ryouma has the charm, but neither has the brain for it. They haven't found me yet, because I, Kohaku Helleusa-Ootori, have been hanging at the back of his fangirl followers ever since he started telling the stories. I enjoy them because my mother and father, Akira and Kyoya Ootori, haven't told me enough. My mother talks about how it was the time of her life in the club whenever I ask, but it's never enough. I thirst for more. I want something that can't be obtained through stories.

But, let's see if Minato and Ryouma are worth the stories they tell. Let them come to me first.

 **UPDATE-**

 **I've posted this story! It's called** ** _Ouran Stolen_** **, so if you liked** ** _Ouran Infiltrated,_** **you may want to go meet Akira's daughter. Heh. Love you all!**


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